Once Like You
by Yva J
Summary: Willy Wonka meets a group of special people who help him discover the meaning of Christmas. Wilder Wonka fiction that takes place several months after Charlie and his family move into the factory.
1. Chapter 1: Beyond the Factory

_Hello and welcome to this multi chapter Christmas story that I promised to post. I decided to start posting this today amidst the other two stories, because in the coming weeks I will be increasingly busy and want to have this story finished and up here by Christmas. 'The Everlasting Gobstopper' will be finished before I leave town, and this one should be as well. As for 'In Another's Eyes' that one is far from being done, so there will be much more of that to come. Since I am leaving town around the twentieth to go to visit family for Christmas, then I will have to get started early with this._

_I had actually started writing another Christmas story, and will hopefully write it over the holidays to prepare for next year (talk about getting ahead of myself). I wanted nothing more than to give you all a Wonka Christmas story that was a bit more than a one or two shot story and this one has (during the last days) pretty much taken on a life of its own._

_I hope that you enjoy reading this and hope that this will give you a warmth that this time of year brings._

_As for the specifics, this story is a drama, with a touch of romance in later chapters. I had to decide what genre it would be, and decided on the Drama / Romance direction since there is something about romance during this time of year that warms all our hearts. But, there are some angst moments as well as hurt/comfort and family issues. The story is a Wilder Wonka story, as are many of my stories because the 1971 film is my favorite._

_At any rate, I hope that you enjoy the story, and I wish you all the best that there is. Please let me know what you think._

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**Once Like You**

By: Yva J.

Christmas 2007

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**Chapter 1: Beyond the Factory**

**London 1971**

It was a brusque winter day about a week before Christmas when Willy Wonka walked slowly away from the factory. He loved the holidays, and especially enjoyed the smell of the cinnamon in the air and the way the breeze wafted through his curly locks of hair. He smiled as he passed beyond the gates of the factory, the sun shining down around him and his blue eyes taking in everything with childlike jubilation.

Although he was often known to take long walks at dusk to avoid the crowds, he tended to have difficulties in dealing with large masses of people. In fact, he hated the fact that people made a huge production of his presence. Of course, his eccentric style of dress did not help matters much. It was rare for men to walk the streets donned in a purple waist coat, bowtie, top hat, and cane. To onlookers, the strangely dressed man looked as though he belonged on the set of a Charles Dickens theater piece instead of roaming the streets of modern-day London.

Yet if anyone were to stop and engage him in dialogue, they would have no other alternative than to say he was a polite and intelligent man. Most people who passed him on the street did not have the courage to speak, they simply stared, their eyes regarding him in utmost curiosity.

As he walked, his back was now facing the factory and his hands rubbing against one another. The city had experienced a cold snap the night before, thus leaving a distinctive chill in the air. He pulled the lapels of his coat closer together, his eyes squinting as a gust of breeze blew against his face. He stopped walking in order to button the overcoat, but his hand lost hold of his cane and the object clattered to the ground. Before he could lean over and retrieve it, a woman carrying a cloth bag approached.

"Here, let me get it for you," she said, her voice taking on a friendly tone. Willy raised his head to see that she had leaned over and retrieved the cane.

Straightening back up, the young woman looked down at the object now resting in her hand. "This is lovely," she said with appreciation in her voice as she carefully stroked the beige colored handle. Her gaze danced across the long skinny object as she waited for him to finish buttoning his coat. Once the task was completed, she returned it to him.

"Thank you," he said smiling down at her, his eyes now taking in the appearance of the woman. She was dressed in a dark brown coat that hung down to her knees. There was nothing about her that really stood out. She was not what he would call striking or beautiful, but she had a smile that could light up any room.

Her voice suddenly brought him back to the present. "This really looks like something that came from an antique shop," she said as she motioned towards the cane that was now in his hand.

Willy smiled. He never thought that anyone would take notice of the object, in fact, if truth were known, he sometimes tended to overlook the accessory himself. He knew that most people figured him for strange for carrying it, although it seemed to match his hat rather well. "Actually, this once belonged to my grandfather. He carried it almost everywhere he went. During my youth I never saw him without it. Just before he died, he gave it to me and told me that I should one day pass it on. You could say that it's rather like a family heirloom."

"That must be nice, to have a family tree that dates back several generations and to have something that reminds you of that," she said as she ran her hand through her hair.

Willy studied the girl's face for possible signs of dishonesty, but all he saw was warmth. She was, perhaps, not as happy as she appeared, but that did not overtly concern him. Instead it left him curious about the secrets hidden beneath her smiling face.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but have I seen you somewhere before?" She eventually spoke, her question emerging and bringing him out of the level of contemplation that seemed to have overtaken him.

When he opened his eyes he noticed that she was now staring up at him, her eyes laced in childlike curiosity, but her realism seemed to keep her from making direct eye contact.

"You might have," he said, but decided against going into detail. It was fun watching people try and figure him out. Generally they did not manage it until he had returned to the safety of the factory.

She took a deep breath. "No, I-I don't mean that. Oh forget I asked," she muttered as she started to walk away. "Everything I say comes out wrong anyway."

Willy reached out and touched her shoulder before she could distance herself from him. "You said nothing wrong," he said smiling. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"You're very kind, but still, you do look familiar to me," she said.

"Well, then try and think about where you might have seen me before."

"That's just it, I don't really recall," she said as she inhaled slowly, her gaze now on the clock that hung over a nearby building. "I should get back, Mrs. Richardson needs these ingredients and I'm, as usual, behind the time."

"Mrs. Richardson?" He said. "I've heard that name before, isn't she the lady who runs the orphanage?"

"Yes, she's been taking care of things there for well over twenty-five years," she said nodding. "I remember when I was a little girl and how she took care of me."

"That's why you mentioned it being nice to have a family, you grew up without one," he said, his voice etched with empathy.

"Yes, but it's generally because most people want babies, and the older kids who loose their parents end up growing up wards of the state. My parents died in an accident when I was four, so I don't remember them," she explained.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It was a long time ago, over twenty years actually," she said. "Besides, why I am even talking about this? I don't really know you except that you're a very nice man who has an amazing and unique clothing style."

Willy smiled. "Thank you, but contrary to what you may think, I do know that being alone at Christmas is especially hard."

"Yes, it is," she said with a nod. "Maybe that's why when I was growing up, Christmas never really worked for me."

"It seems as though you have found the spirit and the optimism that so many people do not possess. This is a very dynamic thing when you stop and consider how often people are surrounded by family and friends at this time of year, and yet they are alone," he said.

The woman smiled. "You put that in such a nice way. I guess you might say that I'm trying to make up for what my childhood didn't have. If I can spread joy and happiness during the holidays, then perhaps I can find it in myself. It's silly, I know, but it seems right."

Willy looked at her, a smirk now shadowing his face. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm very happy that it was you who retrieved my cane when I dropped it."

"I am too," she said. "As far as the optimism is concerned, I am trying to wait for something good to jump out and surprise me. I mean; you never really know, do you?"

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Melanie Jarvis, what's yours?"

"You may not believe me if I were to tell you," he said as he brushed his hand over his face and offered her a secret smile.

"In other words, you don't want to tell me," she said giggling. "You want me to figure out why it is your face looks so familiar to me. So, my nameless new friend, thank you for the nice conversation. I wish that we could talk some more, but I really need to get back, these cookies will not be baked in time if I am not there to provide the flour and sugar."

"Perhaps we will meet again," he said.

"I hope so," she smiled. "Merry Christmas."

Willy nodded and returned the gesture. "Merry Christmas, Melanie." He watched as the young woman walked away. "How can people like that really be happy at Christmastime?" He mumbled under his breath as he watched her walk away. He knew where she worked, he had passed by the house many times while out on his evening strolls. He would stand on the opposite side of the street looking up at the house, never really finding the courage to approach the front door and knock.

As his thoughts drifted back to the present, Willy turned and made his way in the direction of the park.

Before this year had even happened, Willy Wonka had always spent the holidays alone and locked away in his factory. No one even knew or questioned how the reclusive chocolatier had spent his holidays.

This year, Willy had planned to spend Christmas-eve with the Buckets, and even Grandpa Joe had invited him to come and celebrate with them. Now, he could not really fathom spending the whole entire holiday with them. He knew that ultimately, he would be left to feel like the fifth wheel of such a tight knit family unit.

It was no secret that having the Bucket family staying at the factory meant that Christmas would take on a much happier essence than in years gone by. However, he wanted to find something that would keep him occupied instead of admitting the obvious. That is, aside from the company with Charlie and his family, the chocolatier was pretty much alone.

Christmas was a family holiday, and although he was Charlie Bucket's mentor and best friend, there was something that Willy, himself, lacked during the holiday season. Perhaps it was the sense of family. For whatever reason, the thought of spending Christmas alone now filled him with dread.

Willy continued his trek in the direction of the park. His gaze was focused on the path that lined its way between the buildings and the street. As he walked, he thoughts drifted, but it seemed not to matter. Instead, he continued to take in what all was happening around him. The cars as they wove their way through the streets, the sounds of them against wet concrete filled his healthy ear. Instead of speaking, he inhaled and exhaled slowly, his attention now on his breathing and no longer on the sounds that were emanated by the cars.

At the end of the street, he entered the familiar park. All around the area, the sounds of people talking and birds chirping could be heard amidst the breeze as it wafted through the trees. He never questioned why it was the birds were even present, he just enjoyed their gentle songs as they sounded in the breeze. Amidst that, the orchestration of children's laughter seemed to give him the most distinct impression that the holidays were near.

The overall essence of the park had somehow shifted his mood and the traces of a smile once curved his lips upward. He continued on his way, his shoes now tapping lightly against the pavement, the cane in his hand in even rhythm with each step.


	2. Chapter 2: A Child in a Green Coat

_Welcome to chapter 2 of this story. I hope that you enjoy this. Please keep me posted on what you think._

_As for individual reviews:_

_KansReader, glad to read that you are going to be around to do lots of reading during the holidays. I hope that they will prove good and interesting for you. I'm glad you like the way this story is starting out. I love writing Christmas stories, and am glad that there are folks reading them. I love Christmas, so it should explain it._

_YaYa, thanks again for coming for the ride on this one, hope that it will meet your expectations._

_Nina Rogue, glad you like the OC's name. ::wink:: I was trying to come up with unique names for the various OCs here, and that one just popped into my head, so I went with it Hope you continue to enjoy._

_Nightmaregirl, Although most of my big stories are categorized as drama, angst, and other stuff, there are a great many romantic aspects in a lot of my stories. Here's hoping that you will enjoy them. I tend to go with obscure plot devices and most of what I write is the Gene Wilder portrayal, so if you want the stories with his, I will gladly provide, just keep me posted on what you like, or what could stand to be improved on._

_For the rest of you, enjoy, and I do give cookies for reviews. _

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**Chapter 2: A Child in a Green Coat**

Seconds seemed to lapse into minutes as a little girl dressed in a ragged green coat that dragged the ground stumbled past him. Willy noticed that her body was trembling, not necessarily from the cold, but instead, in fright. A tiny cry burst from between her lips as she ran.

The chocolatier found himself staring, all the while wondering why it was the child was so frightened. She rounded a corner, her cries eventually fading in the distance.

Turning back around, he realized why the child had been so terrified. A boy who looked to be a good three or four years older was now coming towards where he was standing. In his hand, he carried a large stick, but what concerned him was not so much the object as the leering expression that crossed the child's face.

It was pointedly clear to the candy maker that this child had all the markings of a classroom bully and his intentions were more than apparent. The boy wanted nothing more than to torment the little girl.

Willy was quite tempted at the prospect of using his cane to trip up the boy, but instead of doing that, he simply shifted his weight so as to block his intended path.

For an instant, the chocolatier figured that the shabby manner in which the girl was dressed was the indicator as to the reason the other children were reacting to her. Willy had, after all, endured more than his share of classroom bullies throughout his youth and his heart went out to the little girl. Children can be so cruel, he thought sadly as the boy practically plowed into him.

When the boy eventually raised his head, he could feel the thick wool of the chocolatier's overcoat beneath his hand. This made him put on the brakes just before stumbling over the cane.

With a brief glance in the direction of the other children, Willy looked down at the boy who looked to be about Charlie's age. Now the child had stopped moving and was looking up at him through disdainful eyes.

As soon as the children noticed what specifically was happening, they started to distance themselves from the two of them. Willy noticed this straightaway and smirked. "It looks like your friends are leaving," he offered, the nonchalant words emerging from between his lips.

The boy turned around and looked, the frown that was presently on his face now growing into a full-fledged scowl. "That little brat is going to get it when I get my hands on her," he mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Willy asked, all the while trying to hide the fact that he had heard every last word.

Instead of responding, the boy watched as the other children dispersed and left him alone. "Where are you guys going?" He called out to them.

In response to this, several of the kids said they had homework, while another said he had chores to do. When all of them were gone except for one of the other boys, the bully with the stick looked at him. "Are you leaving too?" He asked.

"Yeah, I-I uh, have to get home for dinner." With that, the last of the children practically broke into a run to get away from them.

"Traitors," the boy groused.

Willy's smile broadened as he dug in his pocket and carefully pulled out a pocket watch. It read that it was not yet five in the afternoon, and he could tell that the boy had been lying to his friend. This seemed not to matter in the slightest, and the chocolatier allowed himself to chuckle at the bully's awkwardness.

"It's not funny," the boy snapped, but what happened next completely took Willy aback. Instead of simply backing away, the boy pushed the candy maker as hard as he could. This caused Willy to stumble slightly, but using his cane, he managed to even out his footing and remain upright, his body now practically towering over the boy. Just before speaking, he looked down at the child through concerned blue eyes. "My dear boy, what is the meaning of such nasty behavior? Have you got a problem?"

"I am not 'your dear boy', and I don't have a problem," the boy shot back, his rude answer causing the candy maker's eyes to unconsciously roll. When Willy did not immediately respond, the boy continued, his words almost an afterthought. "If I had a problem, it would probably be you. Why don't you go away and leave me alone?"

"I think you would like for me to just go away, but I'm not going to," Willy said assertively. "I am going to find that child that you have been tormenting and make sure she's safe." He turned and started to walk away, his cane now tapping lightly on the ground.

"If you even lay one hand on her head, I'll tell my mother that you did bad things to her, you freak," the boy shouted to the chocolatier's retreating back. When Willy eventually stopped and turned around, he could see that the boy was standing there, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, his gaze filled with hostility.

"Bad things?" Willy mimicked as though mocking the boy. "If I have 'bad things' in mind I would most certainly not level them against someone who is considerably weaker than I am. That's pretty cowardly. Are you a coward?"

"No way," the boy shot back.

"Well, then would you mind telling me what your intentions were with that stick?" He asked, his voice filled with curious undertones.

"That's none of your business."

"Perhaps not, but if I were such a bad person as you seem to imply, then who is it that is carrying a stick and who was the child really running away from?" As he spoke, he ran his hand through his curly hair, his gaze never faltering. "I can assure you that I would never raise a fist to a child, but I will most certainly not stand idly by and allow a classroom bully to hurt a little girl. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what your intentions were with that stick?"

"I wasn't doing anything," the boy said gruffly, all the while trying to bypass him.

It was at that moment that Willy discovered that the little girl was still in the area, the movement by one of the trees indicated to him that she had stopped running and was now watching the confrontation from a safe distance. Taking note of this, Willy diverted his attention back to the boy. "Who is the little girl?" He asked, his voice remaining impartial.

"She's a nobody, just another kid that my mother takes care of," the boy said defensively before he could even stop himself. "Her daddy was on drugs, that's why she's here." His voice was chocked full of judgmental disdain.

"If your mother is caring for her, why does she wear that oversized coat?" Willy asked.

"I think she's stupid, but she says that the coat was her mum's," the boy sneered.

"Here I was thinking that you were pitiless to her just because she was poor," Willy mused. "Now I am discovering that you are just being nasty to her because you're either jealous or cruel."

The boy said nothing, instead he turned away.

"Tell me this, what would you have done if you had caught her?" He asked sternly. "Use your stick and your spiteful words to hurt her because she's different than you?"

The boy pushed his way past the candy maker, and started scanning the area. When he did not see her, he began to shout. "Sarah, if you don't come out right now, I'm going to tell my mother on you and she'll have a fit."

Willy took a deep breath. "If the child is smart, which I think she is, she will stay hidden and not heed such commands. If you believe that I will allow her to get punished by you or your mother, then you are vastly mistaken. I will tell your mother myself that I witnessed you chasing her through the park with that stick. I will also mention that your friends were egging you on. That may not go over too well with her."

The boy took a deep breath and started to back even further away from Willy. For whatever reason, the chocolatier knew that he had outsmarted the boy. Instead of standing around and arguing further, he ran away without so much as looking back.

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Once he was alone, Willy started to walk back towards the trees that concealed the child. "Sarah, where are you?" He called out. When no answer emerged, he made his way further into the crop of trees where he had seen the child during his confrontation with the older boy. 

He tapped his cane about the area, not just out of habit, but also as a means of letting the child know that he was present and his intentions were not to frighten her. "Sarah?" He called her name again, but when she stayed hidden, he continued speaking. "It's alright, sweetheart, the boys are all gone and you can come out."

The words seemed to hang in the air, but when she still did not speak, he continued to make his way, his eyes scanning the ground until he spotted the trim of her coat. He inched his way closer, his voice soft as he addressed the child. "Sarah, you're safe now, I won't let anyone hurt you."

As he reached where she was sitting, he inhaled slowly and released it. He could tell that from where he was standing the little girl was terrified. Instead of speaking, he lowered himself onto the ground and allowed his legs to stretch out before him.

At that moment, instead of hearing the sounds of the child responding, what he heard were her soft sobs. He carefully inched his way around the tree until he could see her sitting on the ground.

Her knees were hugged tightly against her chest and her entire body seemed to be swallowed up in the coat that that hung limply from her shoulders. He reached over and gently touched her shoulder, but when she stiffened, he spoke, his voice soft. "Sarah, don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

The little girl raised her head, but bit down on her lower lip. "They're so mean to me," she whimpered. "Everyone hates me."

"Not everyone," he said. "I don't hate you."

"You don't know me," she whispered. "My daddy said that I was bad and then Bobby said that I was terrible because I have to live at his house."

"Was Bobby was the boy with the stick?" He asked.

"Yeah," she whispered softly. She started to wipe the sleeve of her coat over her face, but this did not stop the tears, instead, they continued to fall. The child remained seated on the ground, her arms wrapped snugly around her knees and her face buried against them.

"You know, I was once like you," he began.

The child raised her head. "Really?"

"Yes, in fact, Bobby even called me a 'freak', so that must clinch it," he said smiling, but when she did not return the gesture, he continued. "Sarah, I know, children can sometimes be very cruel to one another, I went through my years of torment as well." As he spoke, he pulled a small handkerchief from his pocket, shook it out and pressed it into her hand. "Use this to wipe your eyes."

Once she had it, she began to blot it over her face as he had instructed. "You did?" She asked, her voice soft.

Willy nodded. "Yes, I did, and I know how hard it is for a child to contend with cruel and heartless words of others. But, perhaps it might help a bit for you to realize that Bobby seems to be a little bit jealous of you."

"Jealous of me?" She whispered. "But why?"

"I don't know, but sometimes people are cruel to each other because they have something that they want for themselves," he said.

"I don't have anything," she whispered.

"I think you do," he said, but instead of elaborating on this, he offered the little girl his hand. "Come on, let me take you home now. I don't want to you make anyone worry."

"What if they get mad at me?" She asked.

"Well, if anyone gets angry, I'll just explain what I saw," he said smiling gently at her. "After that, maybe they will be a bit nicer to you about it if they know the truth."

Sarah nodded and watched as he got to his feet. Once he was standing, he extended his hand towards her and when she felt the softness of his glove against her cold hand she allowed him to help her get up.

Once she was standing, Willy looked down at her, his eyes filled with kindness. "Come on."

"I wish my mum was here," she cried softly.

"Where is she?" He asked, but watched as the child pointed skyward.

"She's dead," her sad words emerged and Willy could feel the lump catching in his throat. "Mrs. Richardson said that she's with God and the angels."

"Yes, well so is mine," he confessed softly. "She died when I was about your age, and like you, I grew up all alone."

"What about your daddy?" Sarah asked.

"He left several years after my mother died," he said. It was true that Willy had never thought much about that aspect of his family. Perhaps it was not until just recently when he had decided to try and resolve the conflict with his father. Of course, as with many relationships that fall apart over time, this one had not even evolved into a loving or stable one. It merely indicated that the chocolatier and his father had opted to going their own separate ways.

"You were alone too?" Sarah asked softly, her voice indicative that she his story had made her sad. Instead of speaking further, she used her free arm to wind around his waist and give him a very awkward sideways hug.

"I was alone for many years, actually," he said nodding. "But do you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't think either of us are going to be alone anymore," he said as he allowed his hand to gently rest on her shoulder. His other hand rested on the handle of his cane. The little girl stared at it for several seconds but said nothing. Instead, she walked slowly beside him back in the direction of the orphanage.


	3. Chapter 3: The Kinsley Street Orphanage

_Since I'm already writing chapter 12 of this story, I really need to get these chapters up faster. I am not yet finished with the story, as it is turning into a wonderful Christmas writing project for me. I hope that you'll love it as much as I do. The second story will be on the back burner for next year. I should still be writing Willy Wonka stories by the end of next year because I have tons of ideas for it and 'In Another's Eyes' is not even close to being finished yet._

_At any rate, I hope that you enjoy this, and forgive my frequent posts, but as I said, I am leaving on the 21st and will not be back until after the holidays. So this story has ten days for me to get it finished and posted. From the looks of things, I may have to resort to posting more than one chapter in a day's time simply to make sure that it gets completed status by the time I leave. Here's hoping you will enjoy keeping up with it._

_Thanks for reading and please keep those reviews coming. I am really proud of how well this story is coming together and it is giving me some optimism in a rather turbulent time of year._

_Enjoy!_

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**Chapter 3: The Kinsley Street Orphanage**

After several minutes of walking, they reached a clearing, and Sarah glanced over towards the chocolate factory as it rose in the distance. "Do you see it?" The little girl eventually asked him, but pointed towards the high smokestacks.

"You mean, the factory?" Willy asked.

"Uh-huh, I think it's really pretty," she said with awe in her voice. "Do you think it's pretty, too?"

"Yes, Sarah, I think it's pretty," he said smiling despite himself.

"You want to know a secret?" She asked.

"What's that?"

"Sometimes when I'm really sad, I start to draw pictures of it and then I feel better. I think it must be wonderful. Then after I draw it, Melanie helps me color to it," she said. "She's the nicest part about living here, but I think she likes the factory as much as I do."

"Melanie? Is she a tall girl with short brown hair?" He asked, all the while remembering the young woman he had met earlier. She had said that she could not place him, but he was starting to wonder how true those words had been. Dismissing this, he waited for the child to answer.

"I think she's really pretty and she's nice to me," Sarah said. "I wish she could be my sister, but she's not, she's just my best friend."

"A best friend is a very nice thing to have, isn't it?" He asked. "I think that friendship is one of the nicest things in the world that there is."

"I guess so," Sarah said shrugging her shoulders, her gaze still on the factory. "I remember when Melanie and I pretended that we knew what it looked like from the inside."

"You did?" He asked.

Sarah nodded. "We drew pictures of it, but when I showed the pictures to the other kids, they made fun and told me that we were stupid for drawing the picture of a place no one had ever seen before."

"I don't think it's stupid, I think it's wonderful to share your imagination with others," he said. "So can you describe how you think it might look?"

The child raised her head. No adult had ever asked her that question before, in fact, she had often daydreamed about what the inside of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory looked like. Instead of seeing it as something real, it seemed to remain a dream locked away in the fantasies of the little girl. "I think it looks like an enchanted forest with gingerbread houses like the one belonging to the witch in 'Hansel and Gretel'. It was all made of stuff that you could eat," she said.

Sarah, like many children, knew the stories of the reclusive chocolatier as well as his protégé. They were the only people who lived within the confines of the large factory and while the boy often emerged from it, Willy Wonka remained locked away from the light of day…or so she thought.

Of course, realistically, she knew that the chances of ever seeing the factory from the inside were remote at best. However, the thought of actually going inside was something that the small girl did not cease to daydream about it.

"Do you think that the people who live inside the factory are like the witch in that fairy tale?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

"No," she shook her head emphatically. "I think they must be wonderful, the only trouble is, when I went to the factory to see Willy Wonka, I couldn't see him."

"You couldn't?"

"No, there were some big kids standing in front of me and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see him," she whispered sadly. "I went there hoping that I could, but it all happened so fast. Then he was gone." As she spoke, she pulled the coat tightly against herself, no further words emerged.

Instead they continued to walk in silence, Willy's thoughts were now consumed as he looked down at the little girl that walked next to him.

As they came closer to the place that Sarah called 'home', Willy sighed sadly. He had often passed by the orphanage. It was a mere ten minute walk from the factory to the house, but yet, there was something about the place that seemed to draw him there time and again.

Through his research, Willy had discovered that about fifteen children currently resided there, and the people who ran it had been involved in community service for several decades. He inhaled slowly as they walked across the street and came even closer to the small wooden gate that lined the property.

Although the place looked relatively run down and seemed to be in dire need of renovating work, there was a warmth that emanated it. He recalled the days when he had walked past the house and saw children in the front garden playing football. He had even once caught the black and white colored ball when it rolled out onto the street. He picked it up and tossed it back to the group of children. One of them had even waved as well as called out 'thanks Mister' to him. That incident had made him smile and returning the gesture, he had continued on his way.

'Kinsley Street Orphanage' was the name of the place, but most of the locals started calling it a 'Children's Home', which sounded much nicer. Of course, because of the age of the signs, they still carried the name 'orphanage'. The signs were blue and white with highlights that had been burgundy in color. Today, the colors had faded and the highlights were now a pale purplish red. The signs, like the rest of the house had chipped paint and he could see the brown colored wood peering out from amidst the aged paint job. The overall essence of the place seemed to be sorely lacking in color, yet from his trips by the house, what had made up for that was the overall cheerful disposition of the children who resided there.

Overall, it looked as though it had been a good ten or fifteen years since the place had even seen a fresh coat of paint. A second sign bearing the same name was in the front yard with garden boxes, which surrounded it. Inside of them, seasonal flowers and plants blossomed and grew. Right now, given the time of year it was, the box was filled with holly.

Taking a deep breath, he followed the little girl towards the front door. Instead of opening it and immediately going inside, Willy used the head of the cane to ring the doorbell. "You see," he explained with a smile, "a cane is a very useful tool."

Sarah smiled, but nodded as the front door opened and they were left looking into the green eyes of a middle-aged woman with graying blonde hair and rounded spectacles. She looked out at them, her expression laced with relief as well as concern.

Willy offered the woman a smile, but before he could even open his mouth to explain how Sarah had come to be in his company, she spoke.

"Well, look who finally decided to come home," the woman said. Her name was Maggie Richardson and although she did not carry the disposition of strictness or anger, her face was creased with apprehension. Instead of outwardly scolding the child, Maggie took a deep breath. "Sarah, where in the world have you been? Bobby said he had gone to pick you up at school and that you had left with some stranger. I was ready to call the police."

"No, I…" the little girl tried to speak, but Willy immediately raised his hands in negation but took control of the situation.

"I don't think she intended to make you worry, dear lady, but something happened on her way home from school and I found her in the park," he began.

"I see," she began, but looked at the little girl. "Sarah, honey, you know you're not supposed to go with strangers. Something dreadful could have happened to you, sweetheart. You know that that is a very strict rule that we have here and it is in place for your own safety."

Shamefully Sarah looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Richardson."

"Go inside now and have some cookies dear, I'm going to have a few words with your friend," she said. "I'll be along shortly."

"Don't be mad at him, he was just being nice to me," Sarah whispered.

"I understand, now run along," Maggie said and Willy watched as the little girl went inside. Once she was gone, she looked at him. "Sir, right now I'm not quite sure about what I should say."

"I don't mean to intrude in your affairs," he began. "I truly do understand your stance regarding strangers and children, and in most circumstances I would most definitely agree with you."

"Please, just tell me what happened," she said.

"I was taking a walk in the park this afternoon and saw something that rather surprised and shocked me. A boy, Sarah called him Bobby, was chasing after her with a large stick. Several children were with him and were cheering him on."

"My son wouldn't do such a thing," Maggie argued. "You must be mistaken, he's really quite good with the children."

"That is, sadly, not what I saw," Willy said. "I wish it was the case, but the little girl was terribly afraid and I think that she needed to know that someone else believed her. As hard as it may seem, it is her word against Bobby's," he said as he dug in his pocked and retrieved his watch. As he opened the cover and beheld the time, he inhaled before looking at her. "Sadly, I must be off. I have a great many things that need tending. I do hope that my helping Sarah was not construed as something wrong. I would never do anything to harm anyone."

Maggie nodded. "Thank you for your honesty. I will look in to what happened this afternoon, you can rest assured that I will not overlook the welfare of the child based on personal feelings."

Willy smiled. "I did not expect any less from you. From what I hear, your reputation here in town surpasses any prejudices that I might have." He backed away from the door and started to make his way down the steps in the direction of the gate.

"Wait," she called out and stepped away from the door.

He stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering if I had seen you walking around here before," she said. "You look vaguely familiar."

"That's the second time someone has actually asked me that today," he said smirking. "Actually, the truth is, I have walked by your home several times in the past. This neighborhood is very quiet and relaxing to me and I enjoy the solitude."

"Is that why you come by here?" She asked.

"Perhaps that is as good an answer as any. You see, I stop by here now and again because I'm reminded of the place where I grew up. I suppose it is reminiscent of how much things have changed for me since I was a boy," he smiled.

"I cannot fault you for walking by here, but please do understand that I have a responsibility to the children," she said.

"I understand," Willy said, his words soft and he walked down the walk but only stopped when she called out to him.

"I don't mean it that way." She waited for him to stop and she ran to catch up with him. "Maybe this time my judgment was hasty. Can I make it up to you?"

"You don't even know me," he said.

"Well, if you were the Boogey Man, I think I would have picked up on it," she smiled despite her earlier words. "Perhaps you might come by tomorrow at four for tea."

"I'd like that," he smiled.

"Would you tell me your name?" She asked.

"Of course, it's William," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he stepped beyond the perimeters of their property and made his way down the street, his destination now the factory.


	4. Chapter 4: A Chocolatier's Recollections

_As I said in Chapter 3, this story is going up much faster than the other stories, simply because I need to get these updates done before a certain date. Please review, I love reviews, and I appreciate every single one that comes my way._

_Enjoy and have a great evening._

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Chocolatier's Recollections**

By the time Willy had returned to the factory, he was tired. The walk that should have only been an hour had lasted two. His conversation with Maggie was still raging through his mind when he reached the gate and pulled the key from the recesses of his pocket.

Ever since the Golden Ticket contest, Charlie's family had come and gone through the large metal gate at the front of the factory grounds. He had other secret entrances, but this seemed to be the easiest way for him to come and go.

Once he had entered, he closed and locked the gate and walked towards the same door he had used when he had emerged from the factory on that fateful day in October when he had met Charlie for the first time.

The hallway was empty when he came inside, in fact, he wondered why that was the case. Usually, some of the Oompa Loompas were around or Charlie and his family were making their way through the hallways.

Eventually, he reached the door leading into his office and stopped in front of it. Seconds seemed to mesh into minutes when he suddenly heard the sounds of someone coming down the hall.

"Willy, you're back," a chipper sounding boy's voice emerged and he turned to see his protégé coming towards him.

"Hi Charlie," he said. "Were we supposed to meet? Am I late for something?"

"No, dinner's not till eight, like it is every night," Charlie said. "Mum wanted me to ask you if chicken casserole was OK? She had forgotten what it was you didn't like."

"Liver, I won't touch the stuff," Willy smirked, his expression carrying a look of half mischief, half disgust.

"I'll tell her," he said, but noticing his mentor tapping impatiently on is cane, he inhaled. "Is something wrong?"

"No, why would there be?" He asked.

"You always do that when you're nervous," Charlie said truthfully.

Willy opened the door leading into his office and entered. Charlie, instead of leaving, followed him and closed the door behind him.

Once inside the strangely decorated office where everything was cut in half, the boy looked at the chocolatier. "Willy, are you upset about us inviting you for Christmas?"

"No, why would I be upset about that?" The chocolatier asked.

"Well, you said that you'd come for Christmas-eve but you didn't mention what you were going to do on Christmas day," Charlie said. "You know you are like family to us."

"No, dear boy, I'm not," Willy said as he removed his top hat and placed it on the stand that was just over his desk. With his back still facing the boy, he continued speaking. "I've never really told you very much about myself or my past, and perhaps it's better that I not go into detail about it now."

"Why not?"

"Because it's depressing and sad," he said. "When I was about your age, my father left and I spent my teenage years in an orphanage. Maybe that's why I have such an interest in the 'Kinsley Street Children's Home'."

"You told me that you walked in that neighborhood because it was quiet," Charlie said. "You also said that Dr. Pauli told you that you needed to go outside and get some color back in your face."

"Yes, but the reason that I walk by there is because I'm often reminded of my own experiences from it. Today, while I was walking, I ran into a girl who was well in her twenties."

"You like her?" Charlie asked.

"I just met her, but she was alright," he said, but related his meeting with Melanie to the teenager. "I thought that she was interesting, but then later I met another girl named Sarah."

"Two women in one day," Charlie grinned. "Mum always said that you should get out more often and meet people. You seem to be doing well in that department."

"Sarah's about nine, Charlie, she's a sweet little girl, but a bit too young for an old man like me," he said chuckling.

"You're not old," Charlie said.

"I'm not a spring chicken anymore," the chocolatier said smirking. "Anyway, she told me something that indicated that Melanie may not have been completely truthful when we spoke."

"What did she say?" Charlie asked as he sat down at Willy's desk and watched the chocolatier start to pace.

"I can't really pinpoint anything specific that would convince me that Melanie knew more about me than she indicated. Sarah just said that Melanie and she talked about the factory," he said. "Whatever the case, it's puzzling."

"Maybe she was just trying to keep from telling you everything she knew," Charlie said. "Girls are weird, and they sometimes say stuff to protect themselves as well as others. If she did know who you were from that meeting, maybe she kept the information to herself so that you wouldn't think she was out to get something from you."

"Could be, but it would seem as though I will find everything out tomorrow," he said.

"Why?"

"When I took Sarah home, the woman who runs the home invited me to come for tea tomorrow at four. I accepted, but I don't know why."

"Well, if you feel so drawn to the place, it's normal," Charlie said as he got up from the chair and went over to the chocolatier. "Would you do me a favor and stop pacing? You're making me dizzy."

Willy seated himself at the desk, his shoulders sagging somewhat. "Charlie, I've been thinking about Christmas again."

"You're coming to have dinner, aren't you?" Charlie asked. "I mean; I don't want you to be alone on Christmas."

"I know, but I've got to find my own way with all of this," he said. "I know that it seems strange to you for me to feel uncertain about it, but it is the way of things. You have your grandparents and your mother and they love you very much. You are very lucky to have all that."

"But all the good that happened this year is because of you," the boy said. "You're the best friend I ever had and it's not because of the factory either. Willy, I'm confused, why don't you want to spend the holiday with us?"

"Because I can't," he sighed sadly. "Christmas is about family and although I feel very connected to your family, I am still not a part of it. Charlie, I don't know if I can really explain all of this in a way that you'd understand, but ever since the day I became an adult, I have spent Christmas alone. I've never even gone Christmas shopping or even understand the whole commercialism that surrounds the holiday. I know that we sell loads of candy during this time of year, and I write a check for some charity, but every year I'm reminded of how alone I really am."

He rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now you're here, and I am grateful that you want to share your family with me, but for some reason I have reached the conclusion that I cannot really accept that just yet."

Charlie looked down at his hands. "What can I do?"

"My boy, you can't do anything, I'm rather like Scrooge in that old Dickens' classic it would seem," he chuckled. "But, let's talk about something else."

Charlie rubbed his face, his eyes shadowing over and somewhere there came tears. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the chocolatier said. "You're a good friend, the best. I just need to work through my Christmas woes on my own."

"What do you wish to have for Christmas?" Charlie asked.

"A family of my own," Willy said. "A family who loves me."

"We love you," Charlie said.

"I know, but Charlie, there's something missing and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I have to find it on my own, or else I won't be happy this Christmas at all," Willy confessed. "I do love you and your family very much, and I don't want you to believe otherwise."

"I think I understand," Charlie said bravely. "But, you will still come for Christmas-eve, won't you? Mum is making a huge dinner and Grandpa Joe wants you to help us read the Christmas Story."

"I'm not sure I know that one," Willy confessed, his cheeks no longer flushed from the cold, but rather from embarrassment.

"It's from the Bible, and we read it every year on Christmas-eve. Mum takes it down off the shelf and opens it to the second chapter of Luke so that we can read it together. When my dad was alive, we would drink tea and cocoa and sometimes Grandpa George would make the sounds of the animals at the manger while my dad would read aloud. Grandpa George would moo like a cow or baa like a sheep throughout it," Charlie explained. "This sort of became a tradition when my grandparents could no longer get out of bed. Grandma Georgina wanted to go to church so badly, but couldn't, so Dad decided to bring the church to her. Anyway, when I suggested that you could come and spend Christmas-eve, Mum thought that we should share that with you."

Willy smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Charlie."

The boy nodded. "I guess I'll see you later then," he said and started towards the door.

"You will. I've still got some work to do, so I'll catch up with you later," the chocolatier said. Once Charlie nodded, the boy left the office.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Willy took a deep breath and stared blankly down at the clutter that lined his desk. Papers seemed to be scattered all across it, mostly chocolate orders and shipping schedules.

Rubbing his hands through his curly hair, he kept his gaze centered on his work. He knew that everything that he had intended to do for the holiday rush had already been taken care of.

He cast a brief glance in the direction of the door that connected his office to Mr. Wilkenson's. His employee had already left for the holidays, his family meeting in Cornwall. The tall, slender man had left to drive there during the previous day, leaving the administrative offices empty. Wilkenson had been quite excited about the trip saying that his son was getting engaged and the whole clan was going to be seeing each other for the first time in months. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to go, he thought as his attention diverted to the door where a number of Christmas cards had already been delivered and hung with scotch tape.

Most of the cards were generic business cards from candy suppliers and distributors, none of these were what one would call personal, they were just business. Sadness descended on him. "I really am alone," he muttered under his breath. "When Charlie first came here, I figured that loneliness would end, but it didn't, it just compounded itself."

After several minutes, he got up and walked over to where the Wonkavator was stationed. "Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer to spend Christmas with his family," he whispered under his breath as he pressed the button that would open the sliding doors the separated his flying machine from the rest of his office.

He climbed inside and pressed the button that would take him to his private rooms. The Christmas cards that hung on the door were the last things that he thought about as the Wonkavator zapped him off to his quarters.

* * *

By the time he reached his living quarters, his thoughts were going crazy. How was little Sarah doing? What were Melanie's motivations? How could Bobby beat up a girl like that? The questions whirled about in his mind as he started looking around the room for the small box that held the keys to the chocolatier's past. 

As he brushed the dust off the box, His eyes were becoming somewhat teary as he dug through it. He was convinced that he was not crying, but rather the dust had aggravated his eyes and caused them to tear up. By the time he had found the envelope he was searching for, the moisture had managed to make a trek down the smoothness of his face.

He opened the letter and pulled out the contents. He had read this letter every year since that fateful year when he had learned the truth about his mother's illness. He ran his hand over the aged paper, his eyes taking in every aspect of it. Unfolding it, he began to read the last words she would ever speak to him.

* * *

_My Dear William,_

_I wanted to write you and tell you the reason why I am leaving you and your father alone this Christmas. I know that you are unhappy about my leaving, but I am doing this so that you can have a normal holiday like all of your friends. I am very sick and it was my last wish for you to enjoy this time of year as I had always done. Now I must return to the hospital for the last time._

_You will one day forget all about me, and perhaps that is the best thing that could happen. I am confident that you and your father will be alright in my absence. I know that this seems wrong, perhaps cowardly to tell you all of this in a letter, instead of face to face. But my dear son, I am dying, and the doctor has indicated that there is very little that can be done to save me. I will miss you terribly, and I hope that you will grow into a fine man and follow your heartfelt dreams._

_Love,_

_Mum_

* * *

Less than three years later, his grandfather had given him the cane and his father had left him on his own. He had just become a teenager when he was taken to an orphanage and spent his remaining childhood years there. At seventeen, he became emancipated and his life as a candy maker started with a little shop on Cherry Street. 

Today, the owner of the largest candy factory in the world, Willy Wonka's life somehow seemed to be constantly drawn back to the years where he spent living out his existence as an orphan.

Perhaps it was that, which seemed to constantly draw him back to the house on Kinsley Street in the first place. The house and everything that surrounded it served as a painful reminder of so many things.


	5. Chapter 5: Names and Discoveries

_Yesterday was a dud day here, so I will probably have to post more than one chapter today so that I can get this all up in time for the holidays. Please keep me posted on how this is shaping up. The more I work on this story, the more fond of it I become. I hope that you enjoy this effort._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Names & Discoveries**

At half past three the following day, Willy left the factory. In the pockets of his thick black coat, he carried several candy bars. He knew that coming to someone's home as a guest, that it was imperative for him to bring something as a gesture of gratitude and he figured that the children would like the candy. He smiled as he walked, the familiar sounds of his cane tapping steadily against the ground.

Contrary to his otherwise somber mood the night before, Willy was feeling quite jovial at the moment. The sun had come out leaving a warmth against his skin, but at the same instance a bitter cold wafted through the city. Every so often, he would shiver, and then would shove one of his hands into the warmth of his pocket.

As he reached the road where the orphanage was, he pulled his pocket watch from his coat pocket and opened the cover. It was twenty minutes to four, and he was not quite sure if he should show up there earlier than the allotted time.

Instead of contemplating this, he approached the gate. Several children were in the yard building a snowman. It had snowed the night before, thus blanketing the area with a bright white powder, of course, the snow was dry, and it became hard for them to build a snowman that would stick together.

"What are we going to do guys?" One of the boys asked as Willy approached the gate and stood watching the boys for several minutes.

"The snow has to be moist or else it won't stick together," he offered all the while remembering his own years of snowman building. That had been so long ago.

One of the kids raised his head and saw the chocolatier standing next to the gate. "Hey, Mister, aren't you're the guy who returned our football the other day?" He asked. He looked to be about the same age as Sarah, his blue inquisitive eyes meeting Willy's.

"Yes, that was me? How did your match turn out?" He asked.

"Jon and me won four to three," the boy said proudly, his smile showing that several of his teeth were missing.

"Sounds like quite a match up," Willy said a smile curving up his lips.

"It was fun," the boy agreed. "Are you the guy that Mrs. Richardson invited for tea?"

"You know about that?" He asked.

"Yeah, she mentioned it over breakfast before we left for school. My name's Chris, that's John, Tony and Simon."

"I'm Willy, or William," he said smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"Like Willy Wonka?" Tony asked and smiled brightly.

"Don't smile, Tony, you'll make him go blind," Jon poked the boy with a good-natured grin. Instead of flushing or getting embarrassed, the boy simply shrugged his shoulders and gave his friend a friendly shove.

Of course, when the boy did smile, Willy could see the shiny silver braces that lined his teeth. Instead of commenting on this, he offered them a secret smile. "Perhaps, you never really know now, do you?"

"Come on guys, let's get back to the snowman," Simon said and it was indicative that the boys were more interested in using one of the very few snow days they had to actually have some fun. He opened the gate and walked up to the house but suddenly stopped when one of the boys spoke.

"Oh my God," the child called out and pointed, thus causing Willy to turn around. What he saw, made his eyes widen. Sarah was coming up the street, the tiny girl clad in a sweater and jeans, but her green coat was gone. She was crying as well as shivering from the cold. Her lips were a strange blue color and she was holding tightly to herself.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Willy came down the walk and started to remove his coat. "Sarah?" He spoke her name.

The child continued walking slowly towards him, her steps slow and deliberate. It suddenly became clear to him that the girl was unable or unwilling to even acknowledge him. It looked as though she was about to collapse in the snow.

"Go and fetch Mrs. Richardson," Willy instructed as two of the boys rushed into the house. As soon as they were gone, the child had reached him and raised her raised her head. She stood for several seconds, her eyes staring up at him before she collapsed in his arms.

"I've got you, little one," he said softly as he wrapped her snugly in his coat. He then picked her up in his arms and started to carry her towards the warmth of the house.

As they came up the walk, Willy could see that the door had opened and Maggie had come outside, two of the boys at her coattails. "What in God's name happened? Sarah, where's your coat."

"He took it away," Sarah whimpered. "Mum's coat is gone."

"Who did this?" The woman asked, her voice now insistent. "Who took your coat away?"

The child looked at Willy, but closed her eyes and continued to shiver in his arms.

"My guess that given what happened yesterday, it was Bobby," Willy said with an almost apologetic tone in his voice. "Yesterday, he was chasing her with a stick and she was quite terrified of him"

"My son does not torment children," The woman whispered doubtfully.

"Yes he does," Jon said as he raised his head and looked at the woman. "He beat me up three days ago because I wouldn't take out the garbage for him."

Maggie took a deep breath, but instead of responding to Jon's words, she looked at Willy. "Let's get her inside."

The chocolatier nodded and once inside, he found himself engulfed in warmth. The door was closed and the boys were left to their snowman. As soon as they had come inside, he looked down at Sarah. "Can I put you down now?" He asked her, but was surprised when she cuddled herself closer to him.

"Perhaps you can take her into the kitchen," she said. "I can make her some hot broth so she can get warm."

They walked several meters down a corridor until they reached the kitchen and Willy went over to a long table and sat down, the little girl still in his arms.

The minute he was comfortable the door suddenly opened and Melanie came into the room, her actions stopping abruptly when she saw Willy seated at the table. "It's you again," she said as she came over to shake hands with him.

"You know him?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, we sort of ran into each other yesterday when I was getting the flour and sugar for the cookies," Melanie said, but turned to Willy. "It's nice to see you again, I wasn't sure if I would." There was an awkwardness in her voice, but neither she nor Willy spoke of it, instead Maggie spoke.

"William, would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Your name is William?" Melanie spoke, her voice sounding as though it was several octaves higher than usual.

Willy arched an eyebrow. "Yes, my given name is William, but most people actually call me Willy."

Melanie broke into a broad smile upon hearing these words. "You're Willy Wonka!"

Willy nodded slowly, but his next words seemed to acknowledge what the young woman had said. "Yes, and although it may seem a bit hard for you to believe, it is the truth." He looked down at Sarah who was now eyeing him with unspoken glee. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you yesterday."

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, "it's OK. Will you still be my friend?" She asked innocently.

"Of course I will," he said.

Without warning the child smiled and Maggie looked down at the little girl still wrapped in the chocolatier's arms. "I haven't seen her smile like that since she came to live here several months ago," she whispered, her grateful eyes meeting Willy's. "I don't know if I can believe what you have said, but seeing her smile…" her voice trailed off, but Melanie looked at Maggie.

"He is who he says he is, Mrs. Richardson," she said. "The first day of October, I was at the factory gates and I saw you," she began to giggle nervously. "That was where it is I had seen you before, the day you opened your factory."

"That must have been it," he said nodding, but at the same instance, he was still pondering if Melanie really knew more than she had indicated. Instead of elaborating on this, he inhaled slowly. "The truth of the matter is, although I do sometimes take walks in this neighborhood, I do not get out very much, and chances are if you had seen me, then that must have been the day of the Golden Ticket tour." He looked over at Maggie. "Mrs. Richardson, I am deeply sorry for not telling you this yesterday."

"Call me Maggie, and please don't worry about it," she broke her silence, but smiled at him. "My goodness, it's simply an honor to have you in our home. Now, shall I pour you a cup of tea."

"You should drink hot chocolate, she makes it really good," Sarah confided as she raised her head and her doe-like eyes met his crystalline blue ones.

"Either one sounds wonderful," he said smiling. "Thank you, Maggie."

Instead of making him tea, Maggie decided that he would probably prefer the chocolate as Sarah had indicated. She retrieved the milk and poured a generous supply into a saucepan and set it to heat.

For his part, the chocolatier remained seated at the table. Several minutes passed before Maggie brought a cup of broth over to Sarah. As the little girl drank it, he was able to take in the attributes of the large open kitchen. Although the room was neat and orderly, it was also filled with a great many appliances that were simply outdated.

This all seemed hardly enough for an orphanage with the capacity for housing a dozen or more children, Willy thought, but instead of speaking of this, he merely filed this bit of information in his mind and watched as the little girl crawled out of his arms and seated herself beside him. She kept herself wrapped in his coat for several minutes and continued drinking the soup.

"You need to drink every drop before you get your cocoa, Sarah," she instructed. "You were out in the cold without your coat and we don't want you to get sick."

"OK," the child said and Willy watched as she obediently drank down the rest of the broth.

As soon as she had finished, she crawled off the seat. Retrieving the cup, she took it over to the sink before going to the refrigerator and pulling down one of many drawings that graced the door. As she came back over to him, she placed it on the table in front of him.

Willy looked down at it and smiled, the drawing very much the one she had described when they had walked through the park. It was covered with gingerbread houses and he concluded that this was what the child imagined the inside of his factory to look like. Instead of speaking, she waited for him to say something.

"This is so beautiful," he said after studying the drawing for several minutes. "You are such a talented artist."

Sarah smiled but got to her feet and walked over to where the woman was heating milk and water for cocoa and tea. "Mrs. Richardson, can he keep the picture?"

"If you promise to draw me another one, then you can give him that one," she said with a smile.

"OK, I promise," Sarah said as she went back over to where the chocolatier was sitting. She sat down in the chair beside him. "It's for you."

"For me?" When the little girl nodded, he smiled tenderly. "Thank you, Sarah." He carefully tucked the drawing in one of his many pockets.

As he was doing this, Sarah looked across the table at Melanie. "He really likes it, Mel."

"Yeah, I know," she said, but looked at Willy, her eyes unable to even hold his gaze. "Mr. Wonka, you must think that I am insane for not having recognized you yesterday when we spoke."

"Sanity is overrated, Melanie, and please, call me Willy," he said smiling. "That goes for all of you."

"Me too?" Sarah asked, her surprise evident at being allowed to call a grown up by his first name.

"Yes, you too," he said smiling. "After all, you're my favorite little artist." He pulled out the drawing and inspected it closer. "There's a little problem here, though."

"What?" Melanie raised her head and looked across the table at him. "I think she did a great job with the picture."

"Are there too many gingerbread houses?" Sarah asked, horror crossing her tiny face. "I tried to draw them good."

"No, nothing like that, you didn't sign your drawing," he said. "You see, all artists sign their work. That's so that no one else can copy it. I sign my work too."

"How?" Melanie asked as Maggie brought a tin of cookies over to the table and started to listen in to their conversation.

"Well, did you ever wonder how it is that the labels of my candy have a certain look to them?" He asked, but looked at Maggie. "Would you be so kind as to give me a pen and a piece of paper?"

"Of course," Maggie said as she backed away from the table and retrieved the requested items.

Once he held them, he looked at the child. "Now, what should I draw for you?"

"For me?" Sarah asked.

"Of course for you," he said. "What's your favorite flower?"

"I don't know," she said.

Melanie looked at the chocolatier. "She likes daisies. I remember when we were planting them in the boxes outside during the summer months. Sarah really liked how cheerful they looked."

Willy nodded and began to sketch the flowers. Between drawing the picture, he reached for one of the cookies and began to nibble on it. As he did this, a look of apt contemplation suddenly crossed his face. "These are great," he said once he swallowed the bite. "Maggie, do you have the recipe, per chance?"

"It's just in here," she tapped a finger to her temple. "It was my grandmother's recipe, and she never wrote anything down, she just used a pinch of this and a dab of that."

"Did you know that if you really wanted to, you could market these?" He asked. "They have a unique enough taste to them that many manufacturers would probably be interested."

"Do you produce cookies, Willy?" Melanie asked.

"No, but I do have contacts to some of the people who might be interested," he said. "If you could remember the recipe, I am certain that you would probably be able to sell it for a substantial amount of money."

"Enough to fix up this place?" Maggie asked hopefully.

"Maybe, I don't know how much work needs to go into it, but it would be enough to help get a new coat of paint and the signs redone outside," he said honestly. "I think that there is a chance that it could bring about more than just that though. I won't make any promises, but I think they're great and I do have a heightened sense of taste."

"That sounds weird," Sarah said as Willy continued working on the picture.

"Perhaps it does, but it's true," he said. "You see, I lost my hearing in one ear when I was a child and my doctor told me that that contributed to my other senses being enhanced. That's how I managed to find you in the park yesterday. I looked and saw a strange color of green amidst the grass."

The little girl closed her eyes, but after several seconds, she raised her head. "I'm glad you found me," she said innocently.

The chocolatier continued to draw, but he nodded. "I am too."


	6. Chapter 6: Willy's Idea

_Before I head off to bed, I thought I'd go ahead and post the next update to this story. Please let me know what you think and do keep enjoying the story. I have enjoyed writing it. Frankly, I really thought that some of Willy's lines here were really inspired. I just love this character, but you already know that.  
_

_Happy Reading everyone._

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**Chapter 6: Willy's Idea**

Seconds later, the door opened and the boy that Willy had seen in the park came running through the room. When he saw Willy sitting at the table drawing pictures and talking with Sarah, Melanie and his mother, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his face growing pale.

Willy raised his head and smirked. Had the two of them been alone, the chocolatier would probably have laughed at the boy's reaction, but since he was in the company of two women and the little girl, he refrained from doing so. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders, but spoke, his words encased with matter-of-factness. "I was invited to come after I brought Sarah home yesterday. Now, haven't you got something to tell your mother? About a coat and a large stick."

"Where is Sarah's coat, Bobby?" Maggie turned around and regarded her son, her expression indicative that she was aggravated.

"I don't know, Mum," the boy said smugly. "As for yesterday, I was trying to convince Sarah not to go anywhere with this freak. He's nuttier than a fruitcake."

Willy's eyes widened upon hearing the boy's lie, but instead of speaking, he watched as his mother turned away from her work and regarded her son sternly. "Bobby, you know better than to call people names."

"Oh come on mum, just look at him," he objected with a cruel sneer still shadowing his face. "So what sort of circus did you run away from anyway?"

"If only you knew, Bobby," Willy responded.

Sarah looked at the boy, but got to her feet. "You shouldn't be so mean," she said.

"Oh what do you know, squirt?" Bobby snapped back as Maggie placed a cup of cocoa in front of both him and Sarah.

As soon as they had their cocoa, Maggie returned to the stove and began to pour the water into a teapot and allowed it to stand for several minutes.

Ignoring the fact that Bobby was still in the room, he regarded the mother. "Maggie, I have an idea."

"What's your idea, Willy?" Maggie asked.

"Willy?" Bobby turned and looked at the chocolatier. It was evident that he was trying to put two and two together. After several seconds, he looked at his mother. "Mum?"

"You haven't been formally introduced to our guest yet, have you?" Maggie asked her son. "This is Willy Wonka, Bobby."

Instead of speaking, the boy's face lost even more color. "You're Willy Wonka?"

"It would appear as though that is the circus that I ran away from, yes," the chocolatier said with a nod. He watched with bemusement as the boy's face went so white that it almost looked as though he was going to pass out.

Instead of speaking, the boy slinked quietly out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Willy turned and looked at Maggie. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put it that way. My excuse is probably my unspeakable sadness at the way he treated Sarah at the park. I'm still not quite sure about what happened with her coat, but I do think that Bobby does know."

"I want to believe him, but too many things have happened," Maggie said softly.

Willy took a deep breath. "I don't know if what I did was the best, but in my own defense, I was remembering the time in my life when I had been teased by my peers."

"You were teased?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, quite brutally, actually," he said but instead of elaborating on this, he finished the drawing and affixed his name to the bottom of it. "Here's your drawing, Sarah."

The little girl took a deep breath, but glanced down at the drawing the chocolatier had done. The bushel of daisies that graced the page also had his curvy signature at the bottom. "That looks like the writing on your candy bars," Sarah said.

Willy smiled and nodded, but reached for the coat and pulled out the candy bars and placed them on the table. "Now you know where it comes from, but it's a secret."

"I won't tell a soul," she promised.

Instead of speaking, the chocolatier nodded, but glanced over to see that Maggie was standing next to the sink, her head bowed in contemplation. He got to his feet and slowly walked over to her. "You're worried about your son, aren't you?" He asked.

"It's that obvious, isn't it?"

"Yes it is," he said.

"The thing is, Bobby wasn't always like that," she said. "I mean; he went through his typical growing pains, but he used to be trustworthy and would look out for the children. He even went so far as to protect them. Now he's changed and I don't know what to do," she said honestly. "It's been this way ever since his father's been away from home."

"Mr. Richardson had to take another job," Melanie spoke up, her voice breaking into their dialogue.

Willy nodded as his attention returned to Maggie, who took up where the young woman had left off. "His work is what keeps him away from home for extended periods of time. That's why I had to ask Melanie to start working here."

The chocolatier nodded. "I see."

Maggie looked at him. "Willy you said that you had an idea earlier, I was just wondering what you had in mind?"

"I would like do something for Sarah," he said and looked at Maggie. "If I may, that is."

"For me?" Sarah asked. "But why?"

Willy looked across the table at her. "I suppose I want to give something to you because I think you're really nice," he said and smiled.

Sarah looked up at him. She was not sure what to say, as her gaze was fixated on the signature that graced the piece of paper. "But you already gave me something," she whispered.

The chocolatier smiled but rested his hand on top of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Well, you gave me a picture too. Sarah, my idea is something that I think you'll like. I want to invite you to come to the factory. Then you can really see it from the inside."

As these words emerged, Bobby had returned to the kitchen, the boy's expression unreadable as he listened to the chocolatier's words.

Sarah's eyes widened as a smile crossed her face and she began to clap her hands excitedly. "Oh Mrs. Richardson, can I?" The little girl asked.

"What sort of person would I be to say 'no' to such a wonderful act of kindness?" She asked. "Y-you really want to bring her to the factory?"

"Yes, I do," Willy said.

Maggie smiled as though the invitation had also included her, but it was clear that she felt the joy as it abruptly descended on the room. "You are such an amazing person, Willy. Of course you can bring Sarah to the factory."

"Oh great, that brat gets another reward," Bobby eventually spoke, the boy's words laced with a mixture of hate and hostility.

"Bobby," Maggie looked over at him, horror lining her face. "This is an orphanage, not a prison. These children are just as deserving of human understanding and kindness as you are. Sarah is not going to be denied anything if it makes her feel better. Besides, after her mother's coat got taken away from her, I think that she deserves something nice, don't you?"

"You're wrong about her," Bobby snapped. "She is treated like she's better. She's got a lush for a father and was walking around in a ratty looking coat. She doesn't deserve to see the factory."

Sarah closed her eyes as the cruel words emerged and buried her face in her hands. Contrary to this, Willy could see the tears as they spilled down over her face. Inching over to her, he pulled the small girl into his arms. "Don't listen to him, he's just angry, and is taking it out on you."

As he continued to hold her, the child cringed. Instead of speaking further, he carefully pushed the sleeve of her sweater up her arm and gasped when he saw the bruises that lined it. "Who did this to you?" He asked the little girl.

Instead of answering, Sarah buried her tiny head against his chest.

When he looked up at Melanie, the young woman nodded, but motioned towards the hostile youth standing in the kitchen.

"Maggie, do you have some salve for bruises?" He asked plainly.

Maggie took a deep breath, but came over to the table and when she saw the root of Willy's concern, she spoke, her voice filled with shock. "What happened to you, Sarah?"

In response, the child lowered her head, but no words emerged.

After several seconds passed, she looked over at her son who was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. "Have you been hitting her?" Maggie asked, her eyes cross as they regarded her son.

When the boy did not respond, she put her hands on her hips. "What am I going to do with you? You know better than to beat up girls, didn't we teach you any better?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Bobby asked.

"Take up a sport?" Willy offered. "Real men do not hit girls, especially girls who are considerably smaller and weaker then they are."

"What do you care? To me you're just like Santa Claus, you just come in here and wave a candy cane around and then disappear again. Mum, when the day is out, he's just going to go home and everything will be as it was before. You'll probably never see him again."

"I don't believe that," Maggie said.

"Then you've lost your mind," he shot back. "Why did you even invite him here?"

"Willy was looking out for Sarah, which I might add is what you should have been doing, not hitting her," Maggie's voice had, by this time reached a fevered pitch.

Instead of responding to her words about Sarah, Bobby looked at Willy, his eyes filled with hostility. After several seconds, his attention diverted back to his mother. "He could help us, you know," the boy shouted. "We all know he's probably got more money than the Queen."

"This isn't about money, Bobby, this is about treating a child with dignity," Melanie broke her silence before looking at the boy. "I have friends who have parents, and I don't resent them for having them, and I don't beat them to a pulp for it either. I'm happy for them just as I'm happy for Sarah for getting something that the rest of us only dream about."

"You're nothing but a failure, Melanie. You act like you are so perfect, but you're not," the boy shouted. "You're nothing but a sap."

"If being a sap means being kind and treating people with respect, then I will admit to being one openly," Melanie said, her voice cracking. "What you're doing to Sarah, as well as your mother, is wrong and it's unfair. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn't be behaving like this. I would be counting my blessings every day, because you never know when something happens and you find yourself being humbled by them."

"Well, thankfully I'm not like you," Bobby said before once more leaving the room, the door slamming in his wake.


	7. Chapter 7: Rumors and Facts

_Hopefully this chapter will start to explain why Bobby is acting the way he does. At any rate, thanks for the reviews and please do keep reviewing._

_I am enjoying your comments._

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**Chapter 7: Rumors and Facts**

Willy, Melanie and Sarah were left sitting at the table as Maggie slowly walked out of the room, the door closing behind her. Instead of speaking, Willy untangled himself from Sarah's hold and stood up. "I'll be right back," he said.

"What are you going to do?" Melanie asked, her voice suddenly firm as though Bobby's words no longer had any affect on her.

"I don't know, maybe I should do as the boy suggested and offer to help," he said.

"You can't, Willy," Melanie said weakly. "Money is not always going to solve another person's problems. It may perhaps buy someone's loyalties, but that won't last until Bobby learns to respect other people."

"Perhaps you're right, but it seems to me that the root to all of these problems seem to lie with the financial state of this home," he said. "What would you suggest that I do, Melanie?"

"You really want my suggestion?" She asked.

"I asked," he said, his words simple. "Besides, since I'm already here and it is Christmastime, it would seem that there is an underlying reason for my presence. Perhaps I do not belong and I should hold my tongue, but there is something very distressing about this entire situation."

"I know that the only thing Mrs. Richardson would want is for her husband to be home for Christmas and that the children to have something under the tree come Christmas day," Melanie said softly. "Right now, she can't even afford to get her son something and although Bobby acts like a tough guy about it, he's not."

"He cries," Sarah whispered.

"He does?" Willy looked at the little girl. "Did you ever hear him cry?"

"A lot, that's why he's so mean to me," the little girl confessed. "He doesn't want me to tell anyone about it."

Willy took a deep breath. "Perhaps it was wrong of me to bestow the invite when he was in the room."

"You mean; I can't come?" Sarah looked at him, her eyes suddenly filled with sadness. She wrung her hands together, all the while waiting for him to respond.

"No, of course you can come, I would very much like for you to see the factory, but it's a bit difficult with Bobby because I cannot invite him out of pity. It would be the wrong rationale," he explained.

Melanie looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I know that this sounds strange for me to say, Willy, but it feels like Christmas has come early this year," she whispered.

They sat in silence for several minutes until Willy got to his feet. He looked down at the young woman and the little girl before starting towards the door. "I'm going to see how Maggie is doing. Maybe you can get some medicine for Sarah's arms."

Melanie nodded. "I'll do that, Mrs. Richardson keeps a medicine chest in here."

"Do you know where Maggie is right now?" He asked.

"Yes, generally when she gets upset, she goes through the books in the front parlor and rearranges them."

Willy nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

As the chocolatier entered the dining room, the first thing he noticed was that in the center of the room was a large dining table. Surrounding it, about twenty chairs were at equal intervals of one another. Along the perimeters of the room, several mismatched cabinets stood. Some looked like antiques, while others looked as though they were rejects from a rummage sale.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Willy approached one where a number of Christmas ornaments hung from tiny nails that had been hammered into the back panel of the cabinet.

He stared for several minutes at the objects, his gaze taking each of them in turn. They were not expensive ornaments, but they looked as though they held a certain amount of sentimental value to the owner. Additionally, it looked as though they had not only been brought out for the holidays, but they were hanging there all year round. Behind each one, he could make out the small patches of dust that were surrounding the area where they hung in the back of the cabinet.

He stood for several minutes just staring at each of them. One looked as though it had come from China, and others seems to come from all over the world, the French words 'Joyeaux Nöel' were etched on one, while the German words 'Frohe Weihnachten' were on another. Within the group, various renditions of 'Happy Christmas' could be seen. He smiled as he recognized the origin of most of the languages presented.

As his gaze continued to drift over the various ornaments, he nearly forgot about Maggie. The fascination of these objects had captured his imagination and he could not understand why. He continued to shift his focus from one object to another, but his eyes widened when he recognized one of the decorations that his factory had put out several years before.

It had been a promotional idea that he had designed for the original Wonka bar. He smiled s he recognized one of the plastic miniatures of his best-selling candy hanging there amidst the plethora of beautiful glass and plastic ornaments. This year, the Scrumdidlyumptious bar was to be featured as an ornament, and he filed this bit of information to memory for later use.

Without contemplating what he was doing, he carefully opened the cabinet and removed the small decoration from the nail. He pulled it out and smiled as he allowed it to dangle from his fingers, his blue eyes taking in the various aspects of the orange and brown colored object. The silver at the ends of it made it look like it had been put through Wonkavision a few too many times, he thought as he carefully returned the object to the cabinet and closed the glass door.

"Those are Mrs. Richardson's favorite ornaments," a voice suddenly emerged and he turned abruptly around to see a boy who looked to be about twelve-years-old standing behind him. "Some of the kids who used to live here would mail them to her."

"They're beautiful," he said.

"I told her that one day I was going to travel all across Canada and would send her one from every city I visit," he said but extended his hand to the chocolatier. "I'm Ben."

"Hi Ben," he said as he accepted the boy's offered hand, shook it, and released it. When he saw the look that shadowed the youth's face, he continued. "I take it you already know who I am, so introductions are not really necessary."

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said shyly, as he looked away from the chocolatier. "Bobby came upstairs while I was doing my homework and he told me that you were here. I figured that it would be OK for me to come down and say 'hi'."

"No harm done in that," Willy said.

"So, what are you doing here anyway?" He asked. "Did you come to adopt a kid?"

Willy took a deep breath but shook his head. "I wish I could, but no, I was invited for tea this afternoon."

"Well, no matter, they'd probably run you through the third degree anyway," Ben chuckled as he fell into a high pitched imitation of one of the many women he had met since coming to the home. "Purple waistcoats went out with Queen Victoria, you know." He laughed. "Sorry, it's nothing personal, you're just dressed so strangely that I couldn't help it."

Willy chuckled, thus making the youth relax. "I've been told that more times than you can count, so you're not repeating anything new." He glanced back over at the ornaments that hung on the hooks. "Ben, do you know where Mrs. Richardson is right now?" He asked, all the while intentionally using the woman's surname as that was how the children seemed to address her.

"Yeah, I saw her go in the parlor and was on my way to see if Mel knew what happened to her. You live around here long enough, you start to see the patterns happening with people. Mrs. Richardson is really a nice lady and she's rather like a mum to all of us here. She does so much for other people, and sometimes ends up getting raked over the coals for it," he said openly.

"That's what I heard," he said.

"You want me to show you where the parlor is?"

"That would be nice since this house looks smaller from the outside," he said.

"That's what everyone says," Ben said. "Come on."

"Thank you," the chocolatier said as they walked out of dining room and stepped into a living room where a black and white television stood. Several of the children were seated on the floor watching cartoons as they walked past, but no one seemed to pay them any mind.

Ben took a deep breath. "Mr. Wonka, if you want to thank me, then do something for her," he said, but motioned towards the parlor door, as though indicating Maggie. "She does far more than she gets credit for."

"You really care for her, don't you?" Willy asked.

"After my folks ran out on me, I bounced from one foster home to another and finally ended up here," Ben said. "I am probably the oldest kid in the place, and anymore I don't care about getting adopted, I'm too old for most people's tastes, anyway…"

"…So you spend your time looking out for everyone else," Willy finished.

"I don't know about that," he said. "Truthfully, I like it here, this is home for me, and I will probably one day be like Melanie, living here and working around the place to help out, but not getting paid for it."

"She doesn't get paid?" He asked.

"You didn't know that?"

"No."

"Well, this is between you, me, and the gatepost, but Melanie came back to London after finishing her studies," Ben said. "Then when Mrs. Richardson said she needed help, Mel just dropped everything, including a good paying job offer to do it. She works volunteer here, but she lives rent free. She's the one who actually gave Mrs. Richardson the candy bar ornament you were looking at when I came in."

"That was from Melanie?" Willy asked.

"Yeah, she's had a crush on you for since the day of the Golden Ticket thing," he said. "She had no idea what you looked like until that day, and then never stopped talking about it."

"She never mentioned that," he said. "She told me that she didn't recognize me when we first met."

Ben shook his head. "She knew," he said simply, his words soft. "Mr. Wonka, she would be positively mortified if she knew that I told you, so please don't tell her what I said. She's a really nice person, she just hasn't had it all that easy. Low self esteem, the whole ball of wax. Don't let her exterior fool you."

"I had no idea," the chocolatier said. "Maybe I should leave before I cause even more confusion than I have already succeeded in doing."

"If you go, then Melanie will know I told you," Ben said matter-of-factly. "Please don't go."

"Why did you tell me all this then?" He eventually asked.

Ben took a deep breath. "I thought it might help."

Willy inhaled and waited for a moment before speaking. "I seem to have come into a crazier place than my factory when I came here," he muttered under his breath.

"Maybe," Ben smiled at him. "But crazy is not exactly bad, is it?"

"No, perhaps not," he smiled.

"Listen, I'd love to stick around and talk, but I have a research paper that's due before the Christmas holidays. It was nice meeting you." He started to walk away, but just before rounding the corner, he stopped and turned around. "See you around."

Willy nodded, offered a half wave, and went into the parlor.


	8. Chapter 8: A Chocolatier's Confession

_I have some things to do today, so I am getting this part posted. If you see any typos in it, please leave that in your review and I'll correct it straightaway. I hate making obvious little mistakes in writing, but I know that I don't always catch everything. Since this chapter wasn't as thoroughly read as the last one, I want to know if there are mistakes. Don't be shy about bringing them to my attention._

_All the same, thanks a bunch to my reviewers. I'll hopefully get chapter 9 up tonight._

_Enjoy and keep those reviews coming, I just love them._

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**Chapter 8: A Chocolatier's Confession**

As he came through the room, the first thing Willy noticed was that Maggie was standing at the bookshelf trying to pull a number of books from it and place them in another sort of order. Her hands were trembling, and the more she worked, the more nervous and frigid her movements became.

When a small stack of books started to topple down, he ran over to the shelf and tried to stop the avalanche before they fell down on top of her.

"I've got them," he said softly as he used his body weight to shove the books back into the shelf. Several books started to teeter about, two or three falling and landing with a thud on the floor.

Wordlessly, the woman turned and looked at him, her eyes consumed in pain. "In a short period of time, you've managed to turn this place into more chaos than even I can contend with," she whispered as she retrieved the books and returned them to the shelf. Once they were in place, she went over and sat down on the sofa, her hands now rubbing against her face.

Willy walked slowly over to where she was sitting. Instead of sitting down, he remained standing, his eyes staring at the books that were lined along the shelf. "I didn't mean to come here and cause confusion. If you want me to go, then I will."

Maggie raised her head. "I have never sent a guest away, Willy, and I don't intend to start now." Her voice emerged as though she was scolding him, but when he turned around and his gaze met hers, he recognized the hurt that encased her.

"I suppose you're wondering why all of this affects me as profoundly as it has," he began.

"Maybe," she nodded.

"Well, as you know, I grew up in a similar place to this one," he began. "My father walked out on me when I was thirteen-years-old. If not for the home where I spent several of my teenage years, I would probably have never made much out of my life."

"Is that really true, or are you playing a game with me?" She asked weakly.

"Yes it's true," he began. "Maggie, I may be a lot of things, but I am most certainly not a liar, especially not about something like this." He turned away from her, their eye-contact now broken. He walked slowly over to the window and stared outside. "I felt drawn to this place the first moment I saw it."

"Was that yesterday?" She asked.

"No, I mentioned that I walked in this neighborhood a few times, and the first time was around the middle of October. My doctor had instructed me that I should get out more often and get some fresh air." As he spoke, he shook his head, as though in denial of the truth as it washed over him. "You know, there's something about coming back to a place like this and being reminded of the reality of being alone. I have more money than I know what to do with, but aside from Charlie and his family, I have no one to share that good fortune with. There's a wonderful family living in my factory, a young boy whose heart and motives are honest and as pure as freshly fallen snow. He knows how to make candy and is a very fast learner. Yet, the reality is, although I have a family under my roof, I have no family of my own."

"Why are you telling me this?" Maggie asked as she raised her head.

"Perhaps so that you will look at me and see me as a person and not just some pitiless cold-hearted tycoon," he said.

"I don't," she whispered.

"You don't?"

"No, Not at all," she said.

"Then it is your pride that is keeping you from asking me for help," he said softly. He turned around and looked over at where she was sitting on the sofa. What he saw were tears streaming down her face, he took a deep breath, but waited for her to speak. When she finally did, he could feel the defeat in her words washing over him like a cool, spring rain.

"I wanted to ask, but it felt wrong, as though I was imposing on you. I just met you for the first time yesterday, Willy. Aside from what you just shared with me, I know so little about you. I know that you like my cookies, and you believe that there is something good that might come out of them. For me to ask more of you than just friendship feels wrong." As these words emerged, she shook her head as her arms wrapped around herself.

"Then let me do something to help the children," he said softly.

"Because you relate to them?" She asked.

"Yes, that is as good an answer as any," he said. "I know that you need to be strong for these kids, they need that. It is not just your own child who needs you, but the other children depend on you for love and nurturing and they need that as well."

"I don't know how anymore," Maggie whispered as she got up from where she was sitting and walked over to join him at the window. "I thought I knew, and I honestly believed that Bobby was looking out for them. Today, I discovered that my son is out of control and he is taking his hate and anger out on them. I had no idea, and right now I am so scared that he will do something else to hurt her."

"I know and the possibility does exist," he said softly.

"Do you know how it feels to be beaten up by someone who is bigger and stronger than you?" She whispered. "Do you ever contemplate what it is you had done that was wrong and how you grow up wondering what you could have done differently to rectify it?"

"Yes, actually I have," he said weakly. "Please don't tell me I don't know or understand the situation because I do, Maggie. I really do."

She reached over and took his hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I went through it too, my cousin used to beat me up when I was a kid, he did it for probably the same reasons that Bobby does it to Sarah. He's either jealous, resentful, hateful, and God knows what other reasons he has tucked away in his heart." She looked down at the ground before finding the courage to continue. "Bobby and his father are very close, and when Raymond went to work for the trucking company, he told Bobby that he would now be man of the house. I guess Bobby didn't want it and resented that his father was making so many sacrifices for the children. I suppose in hindsight, Raymond sacrificed his own son for the sake of these kids.""

"Bobby's behavior makes more sense to me now, but I cannot fathom someone big and strong like him raising a fist to someone like Sarah," Willy said honestly. "There's no excuse for it."

Maggie nodded. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"If you feel comfortable telling me, then yes," he responded.

"I'm frightened," she whispered. "I don't know what Christmas is going to be like this year, and I have no idea how much more pain Sarah will have to endure before everything becomes clearer. Right now, I'm afraid to leave her alone for even an instant. She is so fragile and with Bobby's behavior, I am concerned about what will happen to her after you leave."

"What can I do, Maggie? Is there an option that we have perhaps overlooked?" He asked softly, his voice now filled with gentility.

"I don't know," she whispered. "Unless…" Her voice trailed off and Willy was left to look at her confused.

"Unless what?" He asked.

Maggie took a deep breath. "Willy, would it be an imposition on you to take Sarah with you?"

"Take her with me?" He asked almost repeating these words in the same cadence as hers had emerged.

"It would not be long, just until I figure out what to do about Bobby and whether or not I can trust him with her," she whispered. "Please, Willy, I don't know where else to send her. I know that I can trust you, and if you want I could ask Melanie to accompany you, then she can keep an eye on her and you won't have to do anything except just make sure that she has a place to sleep and…" Her voice trailed off, but she looked at him, her eyes filled with hope.

He took a deep breath, but nodded. "If it would help, then I will bring them to the factory to stay for a few days, but I am wont to say that this idea scares me," he said. "Especially after Ben told me that…" This time his voice trailed.

Maggie took a deep breath and seeing the chocolatier's discomfort, she spoke. "Listen Willy, Ben is a good kid, but he is also someone who is easy to manipulate. Sometimes he says things that are untrue just to stir them up. Maybe that is why he is such good friends with Bobby. I know that the boy means well, but he does tell a lot of stories that may or may not be true. Please, don't hold it against him."

"He told me that Melanie has a crush on me," Willy said.

"I think she has a little one, but it is probably not as extreme as what Ben has conveyed," Maggie said. "Melanie is a good girl, but she is someone who has been through a great deal of trauma in her life. She is also one of the most self sacrificing people I have ever known. She sometimes does more for others than they do for her."

Willy nodded, but instead of speaking, he sat down on the sofa and brushed his hand through his unruly hair. When he raised his head he could see that Maggie was looking at him.

"Are you sure that you can take care of Sarah for a time?" She asked. "If it's too much to ask, I can try and figure something else out."

"No, if you think it's best, then I will take them back to the factory with me," he said.

Impulsively, she embraced him. "Thank you." After a moment, she backed away and smiled despite her tears.

Willy looked around the parlor, before looking back into the eyes of the woman. "Maggie, is there something that I might be able to do to help you," he said gently.

"You are helping me, you're taking care of Sarah," she said weakly.

"No, I mean; I really want to do something to help _you_," he said with added emphasis. "I would be deeply honored if I could do something for you, but, in doing so, may I ask a small favor of you?"

"Anything," she whispered.

"I, well," he began, his voice faltering somewhat. "Maggie, I have nowhere to go on Christmas day."

"Nowhere?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"Perhaps you could come and spend Christmas here with us," she said softly. "No one should be alone on a holiday."

"If I may, I would like that very much," he said.

"I never thought that someone like you would be in that position," she said. "You are rather like a fixture in this town."

"That makes me feel like a vase or something," he mused.

"No, I don't mean that," she smiled gently at him. "You really feel that isolated, don't you?"

Willy nodded. "I recently discovered that right now I do feel rather lonely." He took a deep breath before he could continue speaking, his words laced with his own brand of honesty. "My workers have their families, and my friend Charlie has his, but…"

"…You're the odd man out," she whispered. "No real family?"

"None to speak of, no," he said softly.

"You're more than welcome here, Willy, but I fear that we don't have much to offer," she confessed. "We generally get up early on Christmas morning and sing carols around the tree. Then we have breakfast..." Her voice broke at that moment.

"…When do the children open their presents?" Willy asked gently.

Maggie swallowed and looked away. "They generally do that right after breakfast, that is, when we could afford to have gifts under the tree. The problem is because our funding was cut this year, there is not enough money for me to get them anything."

"There's nothing?" He asked.

Shamefully, Maggie shook her head, the sadness emerging in her response. "If I could find a place where we could get some discounted toys, then I would go there in a heartbeat."

Willy took a deep breath. "Then we can do this together."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"My dear lady, every year, I give to notable causes and places where a gift is needed," he began. "I have yet to do that this year and with Christmas less than a week away, I have been quite, as one might say, lazy about it. How would it be if instead of my sending money somewhere, I give it to your home, and you teach me about finding gifts that will make the children happy. I've have not been Christmas shopping in well over two decades, and never really felt the need, but this year I want to change that."

"You want _me_ to take _you_ Christmas shopping?" She asked.

"That would be wonderful," he said. "I would have to get something for Charlie and his family, and I have no idea where to start. With your help, we could get all the shopping done together and I would feel like I'm apart of a family again."

"But Willy, we don't have anything to give back to you," she whispered.

"Please, don't worry about what you don't have, concentrate on what you do," he said smiling. "You have a loving family, you have a home for children who have lost the semblance of hope that exists. What could be better than that?"

"I don't really know when you put it that way," she smiled weakly. "We seem to have given you massive amounts of chaos and anger since you've been here."

"No, you have offered me your kindness and friendship, and that's really what it's all about, isn't it?" He asked and when she nodded, he continued speaking, his hand now resting lightly on her shoulder. "You have welcomed me here and through that, I discovered a group of friends. You have taken children from broken families, healed their lost and unhappy dreams, and given them something to hope for. That's special, dear lady, and it is more special than you can presently imagine."

"Somehow I am starting to believe it," she whispered. "When you told me your name earlier, I had this strange feeling that we had just stepped into the middle of a fairy tale."

"It's not a fairy tale inasmuch as it is you meeting someone who knows what it feels like to go to bed without hugs at night. I know first hand about looking under a barren Christmas tree come Christmas morning and wishing that there was something for me to unwrap or play with. My grandfather, the one who gave me the cane, died just before my father walked out. He gave it to me as a memento of his love and support and that is what serves as a reminder to me each time I carry it."

He reached for Maggie's hand and started to lead her out of the room. They walked through the house in the direction that he had come with Ben and found themselves in the dining room. "You have something similar, Maggie. Just look at the impact that you have left on all these lives. Don't ever stop believing that you are less than an amazing person."

"Thank you," Maggie said as she put her arms around the chocolatier and hugged him. "You have not only reminded me of why I do this, but you have helped little Sarah find some semblance of joy."

As he returned her embrace, he looked down at her. "I'm really glad that I could do at least something for her," he said. "She's a very precious little girl and through her, I have met some rather extraordinary people."

Maggie released the embrace but looked up at him, her smile lighting up her entire face. "Can you come tomorrow at ten for our shopping excursion?"

Willy nodded and smirked. "I'll be here with bells on."

"How fitting," she laughed softly.


	9. Chapter 9: Unanswered Questions

_Enjoy the next installment. I am thinking if I post two chapters a day, I will be able to have this one done before we leave. I hope you enjoy it, and please review._

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**Chapter 9: Unanswered Questions**

Willy and Maggie returned to the kitchen several minutes later, both of their faces lined with relief. Although it was clear that Maggie was still worried about Bobby, she was comforted in the fact that Sarah would now be safe.

The house mother had never felt the element of trust with strangers as she felt with Willy Wonka, and perhaps it was his work with candy and children's heartfelt dreams that enabled her to trust their eccentric new friend.

"Mrs. Richardson, is everything alright?" Melanie asked as they came into the kitchen.

"It's better than alright, Willy is giving us Christmas," she said, her eyes shining.

"You can't give us Christmas, it's not something you give, it's a feeling," Melanie said firmly.

"I know that, but he's doing something that is relatively close to it," Maggie said. "Now, Sarah, I want you to go upstairs and pack your things. You're going to be leaving us for a little while."

"What?" Melanie asked, but looked at Willy with stars in her eyes. "Are you adopting her?"

"No, but Maggie thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to come with me to the factory for a few days so that she could work with Bobby on his issues. Perhaps I should have asked if you two would like to come before announcing it."

Sarah squealed as she jumped up from her seat and threw herself into Willy's arms. "Oh yes, yes, yes!" She cried out happily as she hugged him, her face she buried against him as she inhaled. "You smell like peanuts," she giggled after several breaths.

Willy returned the hug and pressed his nose against her hair. "And you smell like strawberries. Mmmm."

"It's my shampoo, silly," the little girl said, her laughter once again filling the kitchen.

"Well, don't forget to pack that, because I like it," he said as Sarah released him before walking towards the door.

Maggie looked at him. "I should help her so that she doesn't forget anything," she said casually. It was more than clear from her expression that the house mother was not about to let the little girl out of her sight.

Once they had left the kitchen, he looked at Melanie. "This wasn't my idea," he began, when he noticed the sheepish grin that shadowed the young woman's face.

"I know, it was Mrs. Richardson's," Melanie said. "She's worried about Sarah."

He nodded as he started to clear off the table. "Melanie, when we met on the street before, did you know who I was?"

The girl got up from the table and started to help him by bringing dishes over to the sink. Instead of immediately speaking, she started filling it with water and soap. After several seconds she offered a defeated nod.

"Why didn't you say that you knew?" He asked. Instead of letting her do all the work, he removed his purple waistcoat and draped it over a chair. Rolling up his sleeves he reached for an apron and pulled it over his head.

"I didn't want it to seem obvious," she whispered, her eyes watching his actions. Nervously she stuck her hands in the sink of sudsy water and started to wash the dishes. "You know, you're a guest here, you don't have to help me with this."

"I want to," he said. "You wash and I'll dry."

Melanie reluctantly nodded as she started to wash the dishes. As she worked, she spoke. "You're a lot different than I expected."

"How so?" He asked.

"Well, for one, you're very nice."

"What were you expecting?" He asked.

"I don't know, I wasn't expecting you to show up here yesterday with Sarah," she said honestly. "After I walked away, I kept hoping that I would see you again, but in the back of my mind, I was thinking 'fat chance'. You're probably the kind of person who gets a hundred invitations for Christmas dinner."

"Actually, no, I don't," he said honestly. "I am not very good with people, that's probably why I'm described as a 'recluse'."

"Well, you seem to be doing quite alright here," she said. "Mrs. Richardson likes you, Sarah is completely entranced, and…" her voice trailed.

"…And?"

"I'm glad that you're here too," she said as she handed him a teacup and watched as he carefully dried it and placed it on the counter.

"You know, when I left the factory yesterday afternoon, I did not expect or even anticipate meeting a group of kind-hearted people who would welcome me as warmly as you have done. It's strange, but it felt nice. I am not often in places that emanate as much love and honesty as this one does."

"You must not get out much," she mumbled.

"I get out more than you think," he said. "One bad apple does not always spoil the whole bunch, Melanie."

"Perhaps not," she looked away. "You know, sometimes I think that it would be better if Mr. Richardson were to come back here and help her raise their son. I would have to leave but then at least things here would be better. Maybe I could go and find a real job."

"What do you do?" He asked.

"Nothing much, mostly odds and ends actually," she hedged.

The chocolatier put the towel down on the counter top, but looked at her, his eyes intent. "Melanie, why won't you just tell me what you are trained to do and stop beating around the bush?"

"It started out with me studying cooking. I wanted to specialize in desserts and confections," she said honestly.

"Candy making, in other words," he said.

She nodded. "Pretty much desserts, not just candy, but I once made some pretty decent fudge. Maybe not as good as yours, but I guess it could still hold its own if the bakeries and shops happen to be closed." She stopped washing and picked up a dry towel to wipe her hands.

"Maybe one day you can show me," he said smiling at her. It was perfectly clear that they were now talking about something he loved. At the same instance, she seemed a mystery and he wondered how much longer it would be until the mystery that surrounded her unraveled. "How did you start making fudge?" He asked.

"I was experimenting with it when I was about fifteen and instead of getting onto me about it, Mr. and Mrs. Richardson would encourage me to keep trying different ideas and recipes. I started out making it with all kinds of nuts. I even played around with the recipes and added things like cinnamon and nutmeg." As she finished speaking, she looked into the chocolatier's warm blue eyes. "I haven't made any in a long time though. Mrs. Richardson likes to use the kitchen to make her cookies, so I tend to stay out of here during the holidays."

"Perhaps when we get to the factory, you can show me," he said.

"I don't know," she whispered as her face flushed.

He nodded as his focus shifted and he stared down at the cup that was now in his hands. "I take it you know why all of this is happening?"

"I know that Maggie doesn't trust her son around Sarah," Melanie said.

"After witnessing what I did at the park, I can perhaps understand her wariness in that regard," he said.

"Trust is very important," she mused.

"Yes, it is, not just when it comes to keeping a secret, but it's also about being truthful and not telling lies," he said. Instead of noticing her pale face, he could hear the door opening and he turned to see Bobby standing in the doorway, the boy's eyes watching them. Instead of saying anything further, the chocolatier looked at the boy. "Wouldn't you agree, Bobby?"

Melanie turned to see the boy standing half hidden by the door. When he didn't speak, she took a deep breath. "What is it Bobby?"

"Where's my mum?" He asked.

"She's upstairs helping Sarah pack," Melanie said.

"Why?" The boy asked. "Is she going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, she is," Willy said. "Sarah and Melanie are coming to stay with me for a few days."

"What for?" The boy managed.

Melanie looked at the boy. "We're going away so that you and your mum will have some time to work through everything that is going on." Her words emerged forced, but Willy was struck at the diplomatic words she spoke.

Although she could probably have let Bobby have it, she chose not to. This adds even more to the vagueness that seemed to surrounds her, Willy thought. When awkward silence descended on the room, the chocolatier looked at the boy. "They'll be back here in time for Christmas."

"Yeah," the boy said with an obvious sneer, "Christmas." He turned away from them and started to walk back towards the door.

"Maybe you should go and pack, Melanie," Willy suggested his next words causing Bobby to stop dead in his tracks. "I'll finish drying the dishes and Bobby can tell me where everything goes."

"OK," she said and quickly walked out of the kitchen.

Once she was gone, the chocolatier looked at Bobby. "What is your problem, Bobby?" He asked and although his words emerged as though he was intent on confronting the child, his stance indicated that he was not about to do any such thing.

"What do you care?" He shot back.

"Maybe I shouldn't, but I have been brought into this situation and not by my own choosing," he said bluntly. "I accidentally met Melanie yesterday as she was walking back. She stopped and helped me."

"She helped you?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, she did," he said. "Then I met you and Sarah at the park. You failed to realize this, but every time we spoke, you came out and would insult me. You have called me a freak, and heaven knows what else, and you implied that I would willingly bring harm to a child. Yet, it is your actions that have convinced your mother to ask me to take Sarah and Melanie back to the factory with me. Maggie fears for their safety because she cannot trust you with that little girl anymore."

"You're lying," he said.

Willy shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I'm not."

Bobby took a deep breath and looked at Willy, his green eyes filled with anger. Instead of speaking, he went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of milk. Retrieving a glass, he poured himself some and returned the bottle.

"You know, I was once like Sarah," Willy said as he walked over to the boy. When Bobby seemed to be ignoring him, he reached out and touched his shoulder. "Look at me Bobby, what do you see?"

Bobby raised his head and looked at Willy, his gaze never faltering. "I see a strange man in outdated clothes."

"You view me as strange or freakish, yet I am someone who can look at you and see that you're in inexpressible pain. I have my sad days, too, but I don't contaminate my home with venomous words, nor do I chase after a little girl with a stick because I am angry and upset. I don't hurl hurtful words at other people because I don't know how to deal with how much pain I'm in."

Bobby bit down on his lip, and for a second, it looked as though the boy was going to throw the glass against the wall.

"I make you mad, don't I?" Willy asked calmly.

Bobby's face flushed. "You make promises to my mum and to the people here, but you don't intend to keep them. You'll probably just walk out of here and never come back. You'll leave us all hanging, just like…"

"…Like?" Willy looked at him. "Who am I like that you detest so much?"

Bobby turned away, but it was clear that whatever secrets were locked away in the boy's cold heart, they would remain there.

It was at that moment that Willy made the unhappy discovery that there was no real way for the Christmas spirit to find its way inside of him because he had locked himself away from it. "Forget it," Bobby eventually snapped. "I'm not going to let the likes of you psychoanalyze me."

Willy finished drying the rest of the plates and cups and placed them on the counter. Instead of speaking further, he removed the apron and returned it to the hook. Next, he walked over to the table and reached for his waistcoat.

Pulling it on, he looked at the boy, but it was at that moment when he spoke, his words meshed somewhere between sarcastic and heartfelt. "Perhaps the only way that I can show you that I am serious is to return here at a later time."

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll believe it when I see it," he whispered before leaving the room.

Once he was gone, Willy was left alone. He went over to the refrigerator and started to look at the various drawings that graced it. He had no idea what he was looking for and since most of the artwork was unsigned, he had no idea which child had drawn what drawings.

He stood, his thoughts literally racing, and it was clear that he was now at a loss. The confrontation with Bobby reminded him so much of his own childhood. Something must have happened to the boy that encased him in this cold and unfeeling demeanor, but what it was specifically remained unknown.


	10. Chapter 10: A Temporary Fantasy

_Sorry for such rapid postings, but it looks like this story is going to have between 19-20 chapters, so I will hopefully get them done before Friday when I leave. I know I mention leaving a lot, but I want to have it up before Christmas, and during my trip I will have no internet access, so I will not be able to post at all._

_I hope you enjoy this update. Please let me know what you think. I know the installments are coming quickly, but as I said, it's better that than having to finish the story after Christmas…and since this is a Christmas story, then it seems rather silly to make you wait._

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**Chapter 10: A Temporary Fantasy**

When Melanie, Sarah, and Maggie returned to the kitchen, they found Willy putting the last of the dishes away. "We didn't expect you to clean the kitchen while we were upstairs, Willy."

"I know," he said. "It was just an afterthought."

Maggie smiled. "I suppose I should get dinner started. Would you like to stay for dinner before you three head out?"

"I would, but Charlie and his mother invited me to come and have dinner with them tonight, and I'm due back," he said as he pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and looked at it. It was about seven and he swallowed. "May I use the phone?"

"Of course, it's in the hallway," Maggie said as he left the kitchen and she looked at Melanie. "You take good care of Sarah."

"I will," she began.

"Don't worry Mrs. Richardson," Sarah said. "Willy will not let anything bad happen. He helped me when Bobby was picking on me."

"I know," she said softly. "Melanie, I am counting on you."

The younger woman nodded as she wrapped her scarf even tighter around her neck. She glanced outside and could see that since they had been talking in the kitchen, darkness had descended upon the city. "It looks like we might get some more snow tonight. It looks as though this is the first time in years that the show has stuck."

Maggie nodded but for her the snow was not a welcomed sight. She was thinking about Raymond, who would be driving back from Glasgow run at about this time. At least that was what he had said when he had called her the night before. He had deposited his shipment and was on his way back. She took a deep breath, but instead of speaking, she bit down on her lip.

"Maybe we can make a snowman," Sarah's voice brought them back to the present and she looked through the doorway where Willy had gone. "Mrs. Richardson, what can we give Willy for Christmas? He's so nice."

"I don't really know, honey," she said. "I've been asking myself that question since he asked if he could come here for Christmas."

"He's coming here for Christmas?" Melanie asked.

"He's a lonely person and it is so tragic that he feels so isolated during the holidays," Maggie said.

"It seems hard to believe," Melanie said. "Especially since he is really sweet."

"No pun intended, right?" Maggie asked a small smile shadowing her face.

Instead of speaking, the young woman blushed and looked away, her eyes momentarily closing. "I like him, and somehow I relate to him, and all this after just one meeting."

"Don't worry, Melanie, I'll make sure we have plenty of mistletoe on hand come Christmas morning," Maggie said smiling.

Before she could respond, Willy once more appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Bucket is expecting us at eight. I don't want to seem pushy, but we should be off."

Maggie looked at him. "I'm grateful to you."

"It's my pleasure," he said smiling. "I'll be here at ten tomorrow if that's alright?"

She nodded and looked at Melanie. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will," she said and looked at Willy. "I guess we're ready to go, then. Come on Sarah, let's go get our coats on."

As soon as Willy and Maggie were alone, he looked at her. "Your son was in here earlier and we talked again."

"Or argued?" Maggie asked.

"It wasn't really an argument since I refused to argue with him. Of course, there is something that I wanted to ask you. Did someone in Bobby's life leave him because he seems to be of the mindset that I would just leave and never come back."

"He never told me anything, but since his father left, he's pretty much keeps to himself," she said honestly. "Now, you'd better go and get your coat, it's getting colder by the minute and it's a long way back to the factory from here."

"It's not so far," he said smiling as he retrieved his cane, and coat before picking up the larger of the two suitcases. "It takes about ten minutes to walk there from here."

Maggie reached for the second suitcase and they carried them out of the kitchen and joined Sarah and Melanie in the front hall. Melanie had put on her brown coat and was zipping it up while Sarah was putting on a light purple colored coat.

Willy pulled on his overcoat but handed the cane to Melanie as he buttoned the coat up and then when he was finished, he reached for his hat.

As the three of them stepped outside, Maggie could see that it was still snowing, the soft flakes falling from the blackness of the sky. The little girl came down the walk and started frolicking in the snow while the three adults stood looking at one another.

"Be careful heading back," Maggie said.

"We will," Melanie responded. "Come on Sarah, we can play in the snow later."

The little girl nodded but waved to Maggie as they left the orphanage and made their way up the street and back in the direction of the factory.

* * *

Within the promised ten minutes they had reached the front gate of the factory. Willy had not said very much during their trek and neither Melanie nor Sarah seemed to be exceedingly talkative either. Perhaps it was overt disbelief that they were going there, he could not pin it down, but he guessed that Sarah was just elated at getting to come to stay at the factory.

Melanie's stance, on the other hand, was still coming across as strange to him. Maggie and Ben had said that Melanie liked him, but she seemed quite good at keeping her feelings at bay. For whatever reason, Willy had felt an awareness of this since their very first meeting.

Eventually, he looked down at the little girl. "Sarah, look over there, do you see the lights?"

"Yeah, they read your name," she said.

"That's where we're going," he said smiling.

"We'd have to be really skinny to fit inside," she giggled.

Willy looked at her. "I don't follow."

"If we're going to that skinny thing, we have to be really thin," she continued to giggle.

"OK, you little smarty, we're not going to the smokestack itself, otherwise we'd end up really dirty," he chuckled. "There's a building right next to it, which is where we are going instead."

Melanie looked over towards the building that he was indicating, but said nothing. She did not want to admit that she was nervous. Instead, she looked at Sarah who was staring up at Willy as though she had just been introduced to Father Christmas himself.

He pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his coat and started thumbing through them. As soon as he found the one he was looking for, he stuck it in the lock of the front gate, turned it and when Melanie heard it click, she swallowed the lump that instantly formed in her throat.

As he swung the gate open, he motioned for them to enter the factory grounds. Once they were inside, he closed and locked the gate. "I'll make sure you have a key made so that you can come and go when you need to," he said, these words addressed to Melanie. He wasn't going to give a key to Sarah because he knew that the child was too little to be setting off by herself.

The young woman nodded and the two of them followed him to a second door and watched as he opened the door and ushered them inside. He then led them down a corridor until they reached the room where the contract from the Golden Ticket contest was still hung on the wall. Next to it the beige colored curtain was still drawn to one side. Instead of thinking about the contract, Willy motioned towards the rack where they could hang their coats. "Go ahead and hang your things here," he said and removed his black overcoat, the keys he slid into the pocket of his purple jacket.

Sarah did as he said and took off the coat and hung it on the rack, or better said, the hands on the rack grabbed the coat after she had taken it off and intended to hang it up. The little girl seemed to be completely unfazed by this, but Melanie gasped and just about jumped out of her skin.

Before Willy could say anything to her about what had just transpired, his attention was diverted to Sarah who had climbed up the stairs and was regarding the pens and contract through curious eyes.

"What's that?" She eventually asked.

Upon hearing this, Melanie turned and looked at the strangely designed contact. She approached and started to read the still audible print near the bottom. "Well, whatever it is, it makes very little sense to me. 'Fax mentis incendium gloria culpum'. Willy, that means 'the torch of the mind lights the path to glory'."

"I know," he smirked. "Don't worry, Melanie, neither of you have to sign it. The contract was used for the Golden Ticket winners and seemed to have served me quite well."

"You know something, Mel? I'd sign it," Sarah said softly.

Willy smiled, but went over to the little girl and rested his hand on her shoulder. "You don't intend to break the rules, do you?" He asked, his voice soft.

"No," she said.

"Then you don't have to," he said, but looked at Melanie. When he saw the skepticism that still lined her face, he sighed. "Melanie, you may not fully understand the way I do things, but nothing that I do is done with the intention of hurting anyone. Come, before we are due at the Buckets', I should show you to your room so you can freshen up for dinner."

Melanie nodded and went over to retrieve her suitcase, thus leaving Willy to carry Sarah's smaller one.


	11. Chapter 11: Heartfelt Honesty

_I hope that you enjoy the latest installment. Please read and review._

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**Chapter 11: Heartfelt Honesty**

They wound their way through several corridors and stopped at a door with the German words 'Zucker Zimmer' (_Sugar Room_) embossed on it in a fancy golden script. Melanie had noticed that there were many different doors and rooms with various words and phrases written on them in foreign languages. It reminded her vaguely of the words that were on the Christmas ornaments that hung in the cabinet back home. Instead of saying something about this, she took a deep breath and watched as he pressed the lever on the door and pushed it open.

Motioning with his hand, he smiled. "Here we are," he said. "I will be back in about twenty minutes to bring you to the Buckets."

Melanie watched as Sarah ran into the room and happily began to take in these new surroundings. This left her standing next to the door. Before he could walk away, she spoke, her eyes unconsciously closing. "Willy?"

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know that I'm really sorry if you feel as though I lied to you," she whispered.

"You claimed you didn't know me, and after thinking about it, I am somehow left to conclude that you played a sort of game with me. I can assure that I am many things, Melanie, but I am most certainly not a fool," he said firmly.

"It was wrong of me," she whispered. "Would you forgive me?"

"I harbor no ill towards you for it, but if circumstances had been different, I might have perhaps not invited you here," he said honestly. "You're only here because of Sarah."

"Is what I did so wrong?" She asked weakly.

Willy took a deep breath. "When we first met, I thought you were being nice to me without knowing who I was. Sarah did not even know my name until I said it and you acted as though you had no idea," he said, the disappointment laced in his words. "I honestly don't know if you were nice to me because I am Willy Wonka or because you are a genuinely nice person. Later, when you told me what your profession was, I started to seriously ponder what your intentions were."

Defeated, Melanie looked away. She could feel the tears catching in her eyes, but instead of saying anything, she simply bit down on her lip.

Willy watched this reaction, but took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have said that," he said softly.

"But you did," she said and backed away from him. "And since you mentioned 'kindness' that was probably the most '_un_kind' thing that anyone's ever said to me." She lowered her head, but the words did not stop. "Let me just assure you for the record, I do try to be nice to other people, not just to famous ones." Without warning, a stray tear streamed down her face. "But since we're talking about honesty, do you really want to know the truth?"

He nodded.

"The reason I didn't say anything to you about who you were is because I was scared to mention it out on the street," she said softly. "I know that some people do go out incognito and I figured that the great Willy Wonka was no different." As these words emerged, he could tell that her voice was laced in sarcasm.

Instead of allowing him the chance to respond, she continued. "Maybe I was wrong to do that, I don't know, but I can't very well change how I reacted. If you want to judge me based solely on one reaction, then perhaps I should also tell you that I had no idea that I would see you again after that. Sure, I had seen you on the street adjacent to the orphanage, but I never once approached you and asked you what your intentions or motives were. Perhaps I could have, but I didn't."

"You had seen me in the neighborhood?" He asked. "Why didn't you say something? I wouldn't have gotten angry."

"How do I know that?" She asked.

"I suppose you didn't," he mused.

"No, I didn't, maybe because I respected your privacy enough to leave you in peace," she said. "I guess at the time I was worried that you might feel awkward if I approached without cause. When you dropped your cane, I thought this was a good chance for me to come up and talk to you."

"Why didn't you say that back at the orphanage?" He asked.

"Because I grew up there and the walls have ears," she said as she shook her head. "I know that around places like that, rumors and stuff travel faster than the speed of light. I didn't feel especially comfortable talking about my feelings because Sarah's situation was the center of everyone's attention. I also figured it would not have been wise for me to mention it, so I didn't."

As these words hung in the air, Willy looked at her for signs of dishonesty. Seeing none, he allowed the silence to swallow him up.

Eventually, the young woman broke it. "So, the question that remains is what do I have to do to earn your trust?"

"Why would you ask such a question?" He asked.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "I figured that I ought to ask you about it since it seems quite obvious that you probably don't believe a word I say."

"You haven't lost my trust, Melanie," he began.

"I'm not so sure about that," she whispered. "Just forget it, we'll see you when you come get us for dinner."

She backed away from him but did not expect him to reach out and gently grip her upper arm, his touch somewhere between gentle and insistent. "Listen Melanie, I'm sorry if I hurt you. Perhaps I was wrong and should not have put so much emphasis on what Ben said when we spoke earlier at the house," he said.

"Ben?" She whispered. "I should have known. I can only imagine what it was Ben must have told you about me. He probably said that I had a crush on you and that I work at the home for nothing, right?"

"Yes, he did," he said.

"And he told you that I had given up a job to come back here, right?" She asked.

He nodded.

"There was no job," she whispered.

"Come again?" He asked.

"I never had a job offer," she confessed. "It was a lie. Some of the kids at the house know it, but Mrs. Richardson doesn't, at least I don't think she does."

"Why did you lead them to believe that there was a job?" He asked. "A lie is a lie, Melanie, even if it is told with the best of intentions."

She looked away from him, her eyes filling with tears. "I came back to London because no one would hire me and I was pretty much on my own after I finished school. About a month after I had finished my studies, I was sitting at the table in my one-room flat and staring at the wall. I had no idea what to do, the rent was coming due and I had nothing. All of my classmates had attained positions, but no one wanted to hire me. Then Mrs. Richardson called out of the blue and asked if I could come back. I agreed and packed my bags and left the following day. I didn't want her to think that I was a complete failure, I told her that I had gotten a job offer, but that I hadn't decided yet if I was going to take it. I didn't know that it was going to snowball on me like it did. You live a lie long enough, it suddenly becomes true."

Willy listened to her words all the while saying nothing, but waited for her to continue speaking. "You probably figure that I lied about my training as well, so I may as well come clean about that as well. I wasn't trained in confectionary arts, I was only trained to sell them as a baker's attendant."

"Why didn't you just say so?" He asked. "I wouldn't have judged you."

"I didn't know that," she said, but started to turn back towards the open door. At that moment, there was one thing she wanted to do, crawl into a hole and die right there on the spot.

"What about your 'candy making', Melanie?" He pressed.

"What candy making? The last time I tried making anything was about a year ago and it turned out to be a disaster. I wanted to make some fudge during my studies and the whole mess ended up burning and I came this close to making the kitchen catch fire."

Before he could say a word, she continued speaking. "Do you want to know how kind the real world is? It's not kind at all. In fact, I sometimes wish that I could have done what you did; shut it all out and hide away."

"You don't really mean that, Melanie," he said.

"Yes I do," she whispered as she tried to wipe the persistent tears from her eyes. "Everything I have ever tried to do in my life has fallen apart, my parents aren't dead, they just didn't want me. They dropped me at the orphanage when I was seven because they couldn't control me anymore."

"They were wrong to do that to you." Willy said as he reached over and touched her shoulder. What he did not expect was for her to distance herself from him and back slowly into the room.

Instead of allowing this, he stepped even closer to her. "I know how you feel, Melanie. But, you must believe me when I tell you that you are not at fault for what your parents did. My father did the very same thing to me."

She raised her head and looked at him, her eyes wide. "H-he did?"

"Yes, I was a bit older, but it still hurt like nothing in the world," he admitted.

Melanie nodded, but instead of speaking, she glanced over at the wall and could see the rainbow colors that graced it. Her gaze remained there as she continued speaking. "The hardest thing about all of this is that Mrs. Richardson seemed to be so happy for me. She told me that she knew I could do everything I set my mind to, but I didn't. There was no denying that I had let every person down that I cared for. Now I'm scared, because I know that I don't want any of them to think that I'm a disappointment because that's how I felt." She closed her eyes. "So there you have it. I am not perfect, I never was. Maybe I kept pretending in the hopes that you would like me and not view me as not being a success." As these words emerged, the tears now streamed effortlessly down her cheeks.

"I never once thought of you as a failure, Melanie," he said kindly. "When you show people who you really are, you leave no questions in their minds about your sincerity. You may not believe it, but you are a very intelligent person. You are caring and objective even if you can't make fudge."

She laughed sadly but raised her head and looked at him. When she saw him smiling at her, his face suddenly began to swim before her eyes as the tears began to once more stream down her face. His face suddenly vanished when she covered her face with her hands and allowed herself to cry.

Willy took a deep breath all the while not really knowing what to do next. He had said what needed to be said, but she was still crying. Instead of trying to convince her of her worth, he suddenly felt someone tugging on his sleeve. He turned and looked down, only to see Sarah was standing in the doorway and looking up at him. "You should hug her," the little girl said softly.

He nodded and wordlessly, he pulled the unhappy young woman into his arms. "Come now, it's not all that bad," he soothed as he brushed his hand through her hair. "Please, Melanie, don't cry." As these words emerged, he cast a glance back towards the door leading into the room. He half expected to see Sarah standing in the doorway, but the child was no longer there. She had returned to the room, thus leaving them alone.

Willy's eyes closed as he felt Melanie shyly raising her arms and returning the embrace. The young woman's face was now pressed against his chest, her tears dampening his vest.

"I'm sorry," she managed to speak after several moments. Her words emerged filled with self incrimination.

"You shouldn't be sorry. It's my fault, I didn't know everything and was building an argument based solely on assumptions and rumors," he said a small smile on his face as he lowered his arms.

Melanie backed away from him, her eyes looking up at him. "Did you mean what you said just now?"

He nodded. "Every word. And for the record, you can strike that comment I made about my having only invited you for Sarah's sake. I really am quite happy that you're here."

"Thank you," she smiled and wiped the last of her tears away.


	12. Chapter 12: Decking the Cards

_Enjoy the latest installment. Here's hoping that some of you reading will take the time to review. Running against a deadline is stressful and at this time of year, well, you know how that can be. _

_Happy reading._

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**Chapter 12: Decking the Cards**

That same evening after Willy, Melanie, and Sarah had joined the Bucket family for dinner, Willy and Melanie were returning to the chocolatier's office. During the meal, he had made mention of a project that needed tending and he had asked her for her assistance.

In the back of his mind, Willy pondered if this would help make Melanie feel better about the things she had confided in him earlier. He felt an extreme amount of guilt for having confronted her about her façade when he had been as guilty as she in that regard.

"That was a funny joke that Charlie's grandfather told about the elves and reindeer," she said, thus breaking the silence as they reached the office and he opened the door.

"Yes, it was, but are you really sure you really want to help me with this little project?" He asked. "It may prove to be a very time consuming one."

"It's not late and Sarah's already asleep. She'll probably have visions of sugarplums dancing in her head until New Year's eve," Melanie smiled. "You're an extraordinary person. I should have known that I could tell you everything and feel as though you understand."

"You feel shame for something that you couldn't change," he said. "And as for the job, let's see what the future brings. You had only been finished for about a month. I know of people who have looked for jobs for even longer and they are not failures."

"Maybe not, but it was still wrong and I have to tell Mrs. Richardson the truth, and I'm afraid to," she said.

"Would if help if I'm with you when you do?" He asked.

"It can't hurt, she likes you as though you're one of the kids," she said. "I can always tell, because I know her pretty well."

"I'm a bit old for that," he said.

"How old are you?" She asked.

"That's a trade secret," he chuckled.

"Oh come on, Willy, you already know that I'm twenty five," she pouted. "Are you five years older?"

He shook his head. "Close to ten, actually."

"You're thirty-five?" She asked.

"No, thirty-four," he said.

"That's not very old," she whispered, but wondered if he had even heard her words. Instead, Willy approached the desk and picked up a stack of cards that lined it. Melanie only half watched what he was doing, her gaze drifted to the objects in the office that were all cut in half.

"So what's this project that you need my help with?" She asked, when she noticed that he remained standing at his desk. Eventually he turned around and she saw a stack of what looked to be about a hundred greeting cards in his hand.

"Melanie, I need you to help me with…my…uh….Christmas cards," he looked at her, his blue eyes hopeful. "It's strange, I know, but I'm not used to doing this."

"Why not?" She asked. "Doesn't the factory send out cards every year?"

"Mr. Wilkenson usually takes care of that for me, and I'm rather a fish out of water when it comes to all that sentimental stuff," Willy confessed. "It has been years since I did anything new or different for Christmas. I've always been alone during the holidays and until this year, that aloneness was alright..." His words trailed and he motioned towards the doorway where the cards hung. Silence descended on the room as Melanie went over to them, her eyes taking in each one in turn

It's no wonder this man is so alone, she thought sadly. The only Christmas cards he receives are these boring preprinted cards from businesses.

She turned away from the doorway, her gaze meeting his. As though reading her thoughts, the candy maker began to speak once again. "When I look at those, I'm reminded of how alone I really am. These are just business related cards, nothing personal or heartfelt."

"Who hung them up?" She asked.

"Mr. Wilkenson," he said sadly. "I'm not at my best at Christmas, I haven't done anything for it since I was a child."

"So, in other words, it would seem that 'Ebenezer' Wonka needs a few lessons in Christmas," she smiled up at him, her eyes shining.

"I'm not Mr. Scrooge, Melanie. I do, at least, try and do nice things for people," he whispered.

Melanie swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the back of her throat. Somewhere in his words, she could sense that her comment had hurt him. "Maybe not, but you have succeeded in neglecting someone in the wake of all your good deeds," she reached out and touched his arm.

"You?" He asked, his confusion now showing.

"Not me, silly, you," she said, her voice carrying the earnestness that she could not hide. "You are such an amazing person, Willy, and yet you look out for everyone else, but you never seem to look out for yourself." She paused before continuing. "When was the last time you bought yourself something you liked or went to a movie and ate an entire tub of popcorn? I don't mean something here that can keep you separated from the world, but something that would enable you to take a bite out of life and be a part of the world."

The chocolatier took a deep breath. "I don't know."

"Maybe that's what you need, to get out of here and find the joy in living. How can you enjoy Christmas when the only sign of it are the cards that hang in that doorway? If I was subjecting myself to this sort of thing, I'd be depressed, too."

Willy looked at her, his eyes carrying a dull emptiness. "Melanie, I know that I sell a lot of candy during this time of year, but I don't know about how to make Christmas work in the sense that you describe," he touched his chest where his heart rested beneath it. "I've forgotten."

"Yet, you said 'Merry Christmas' to me the first time we met," she whispered. "Did you mean it?"

"I don't know," he said. "I was trying to be nice…"

"…Then you did mean it," she interrupted him as she looked down at the stack of cards that were still rested in his hand. "You were smiling and happy, or was that a façade?"

"No, I did feel happy that day," he said. "The city seemed to be ringing with life, and I liked what I was sensing about it. The smells of cinnamon and the laughter that drifted in from the park."

"I think I understand," she whispered as she went over to him and wrapped her arms around him, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. "Willy, maybe what you need are a few of your fellow orphans to show you how we celebrate Christmas."

He nodded. "You may be right."

"Well, then let's get started," she released her hold on him and reached for the cards that he held in his hand. "Even if it takes all night, we're going to get these cards done in time."

"Let me get the other chair out of Mr. Wilkenson's office," he said as he started towards the door leading into the adjacent office.

"Forget about that," she said. Without warning, she sat down on the floor, the cards she placed next to her. "I do my best work on the floor. Just grab your address book, a couple of pens, and come sit with me."

Willy did as she said and once he had retrieved the objects, he walked over to where she was sitting. He seated himself on the floor but watched as her hands brusquely separated the cards. Once they were scattered about, he watched as she opened the address book and flipped the pages to the very first entries.

"Now take one of the pens," she instructed.

Willy pulled the lid off his favorite fountain pen as she shoved a card into his hands. "What do I write?" He asked.

Melanie looked at him. "What is in your heart?"

"'Happy Christmas' maybe?" He asked.

"Sure, write it down," she said. "You could also write 'and a wonderful new year'. Is there something else that you want to tell…" she consulted the address book. "…Mr. Paul Abernathy?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Well, what is your relation to him?" She asked.

"He's one of the most active candy suppliers on the east coast of the United States," he said. "Oh yes, and he sent us a fruitcake last year with a bottle of red wine. Between you and me, the wine was quite good, but the fruitcake is really terrible stuff."

"I never liked it either, but it's the thought that counts, so thank him for it, and maybe send him something back," she said.

"What?" He asked.

"I don't know, maybe a pound of your best fudge," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"What is it with you and fudge?" He raised his head and spoke. His expression laced with curiosity, but amidst that was also suppressed mischief.

She smiled at him. "You're diverting the focus. You need to get back on track here."

"No, tell me, why is it so important to you?" He asked.

"I just like it, and I wish I could actually make it without burning something," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe you can, if you have someone to help you," he said. "Before Christmas, you and I are going to make fudge together, and I don't want to hear any arguments about it. Are we clear?"

"Transparent," she whispered, her voice indicating that she was quite humbled by his outburst. "I didn't expect that, Willy."

"Well, you're getting it," he said. "We can take it to the others on Christmas."

"You know there was something that Bobby was right about," she said.

"What's that?" He asked.

"About us not being deserving of your kindness," she said. "You know, for someone who feels as though they don't know much about Christmas, you seem to live it every day." As she spoke, happy tears streamed down her face.

"You're leaking again," he said with a coy smirk. Instead of speaking further, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and leaned over so that he could wipe the moisture away.

"I'm happy, I mean; really happy," she smiled at him.

"I'm glad, but let's get these cards finished," he said as he began to write and then held up the card. Across the inside of the card, he had drawn a small holly branch next to the words and then signed his name.

"It's perfect," she said as she picked up the second pen. Pulling off the lid, she grabbed the address book. "I'll address the envelopes and you sign the cards."

Willy nodded and they set to work.

* * *

It was close to two in the morning when they had finished. Willy's hand was tired from the endless sketching and signing. He was proud that he had managed to get all the cards done, and he had managed to make several calls ordering poinsettias for some of his business associates.

As he hung up the phone, he glanced over and saw that Melanie was practically hunched over the stack of cards, her body exhausted from the hours of addressing envelopes, as well as stuffing and sealing them. The young woman was fast asleep, albeit not comfortably.

"Melanie?" He whispered her name as he touched her face and noticed that a blob of ink was smeared across her cheek. "Oh good grief, you're fast asleep," he muttered.

The pen that she held was still tightly clenched in her fist, but he managed to pry it out of her grasp and toss it onto the desk. Wordlessly, the chocolatier began to collect all the addressed cards and placed them in an outbox so that they could be posted the following morning. He then turned his attention to Melanie.

Taking her shoulders, he carefully pulled her back so that she would be leaning against him. With one arm holding her up, he managed to shift his weight so that he sat on one side of her. He carefully picked her up in his arms and started to walk towards the door leading out of the office. Turning the knob, he opened the door and inched his way out with her still wrapped securely in his arms.

He was smiling as he carried her back down the hall towards her and Sarah's room.

Within five minutes, he had reached his destination, opened the door, and entered the room. On one of the beds, Sarah was fast asleep, a ragged looking doll tightly held in the child's arms.

He carried Melanie over to the other bed and with a haphazard tug, he pulled the covers back and lowered her onto the bed. As he shifted her, she slowly opened her eyes to see that he was laying her amidst the pillows. "Where am I?" She mumbled.

Willy turned from where he was standing and smiled down at her. "Shh, you'll wake Sarah." He whispered.

"I doubt it, she could sleep through an earthquake," Melanie said. "You brought me back to our room?"

"Yes," he smiled. "You fell asleep after you finished addressing the envelopes. I didn't want to leave you in my office to sleep. It's a nice place, but not very comfortable," he said. "Melanie, you should have told me that you were tired."

"But we finished," she said and yawned. "That's the good thing, right?"

"Yes," he said. "Now, I think it's time for all of us to follow Sarah's example and get some sleep."

Melanie nodded. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

"My pleasure," he said as he pulled the covers over her. "Good night, Melanie, sweet dreams."

"Good night Willy," she smiled as she snuggled down beneath the covers.

As he was leaving the room, she watched his every move until he had left the room and the door had closed firmly behind him.


	13. Chapter 13: Learning About Love

_Enjoy the latest installment. Please review._

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**Chapter 13: Learning about Love**

Willy was smiling when he finished the task of mailing the Christmas cards the following morning. From his window he watched as the postal truck was driving away from the factory gates. It was the last Saturday before Christmas and that meant that he would be meeting Maggie that day to do the Christmas shopping. He was excited about the prospect of going out in the city to do this, and it was reassuring that he would not have to do all by himself.

This time, instead of being dressed in his typical style, he had decided to dress in black pants and a white button down the front dress shirt. He wore a red and black colored sweater over the shirt, thus giving him a more modern and not so eccentric look. He had smiled at his reflection when he had seen the simple transformation. He would be able to go out dressed in this fashion, do his shopping, and no one would think that he was a famous chocolatier. This idea had been one of his better non-confectionary ones.

As he mulled over the list of people he wanted to shop for, someone knocked at the door. Getting to his feet, he walked over and opened it. Charlie, Melanie, and Sarah were standing on the other side of the door, their faces aglow.

"Good morning, ladies, hello Charlie," he said his simple greeting causing Sarah to giggle.

She looked up at Charlie and smiled at him. "He called me a lady, Charlie," she said as her hiccup-like laughter filled the office.

Willy smiled. "You are a lady Sarah, a little lady who is full of sunshine." His attention shifted and he looked at Charlie. "What have you got planned for today?"

"We wanted to come by and see what you were doing, actually," Charlie said. "I need to get some gifts for my grandparents and wanted to see if you would mind giving me an advancement so I can really surprise them."

Willy nodded. "No problem, Charlie, since you helped me perfect the exploding candy the other day." He opened the drawer to his desk and began to move things around. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled it out, turned around and casually tossed a small leather pouch to the boy. "You know, we should have that specific candy out by April Fools thanks to you, of course, I don't know of anyone who would test it."

"How about Bobby?" Sarah asked with a giggle.

The chocolatier smiled, but instead of responding, he looked at the woman and the little girl. As his gaze met Melanie's, he could detect bemusement in her eyes.

"You're making exploding candy?" She asked.

"Of course, it's a great idea," he said casually.

"Just make sure you leave a disclaimer on it so when it does explode, no one will try to make you liable for it," she giggled.

The chocolatier smiled and nodded. "Mr. Wilkenson always takes care of the legalities, but that's probably not a bad idea. Charlie, if I happen to get sidetracked, could you remind me of that after the holidays?"

The boy nodded as he dug through the small pouch and discovered a plethora of bills and coins. "So, you didn't tell us what you were doing today," Charlie said, his attention diverted from the money he had received.

"Well," the candy maker smiled. "Maggie is taking me Christmas shopping with her."

"Can we join you?" Melanie asked.

"No, absolutely not," Willy feigned shock at the mere prospect. "That is absolutely out of the question." As these words filled his office, the chocolatier almost burst out laughing at their confused expressions.

"Oh come on, Willy," Sarah whined.

"Careful, you keep doing that you'll freeze like that," he quipped. When Sarah looked hurt, he crouched down so that he would be eye-level with the child. "I have to get you and Melanie your Christmas presents, and while I may not know much very about the holiday, I do know that trying to shop for someone when they are hanging about is not easy. Why don't you go with Charlie and Melanie to see Father Christmas today? You still believe in him, don't you?"

The little girl nodded and Willy broke into a wide grin. "Then it's settled, that is if Charlie doesn't mind having you both along." He turned to the boy and watched as he shook his head.

Whirling back around, he clapped his hands together, his actions making Melanie conjure up the image of a tornado in a trailer park.

Melanie watched him. "Willy, we can at least accompany you back to the house and then go our separate ways from there."

The chocolatier nodded. "Yes, that would acceptable. The we must be off, we have so much time and so little to do…"

Before any of them knew what was happening, Charlie took up the saying and both master and protégé finished it. "…Strike that, reverse it."

Melanie giggled and looked at Sarah. "Let's go get our coats," she said and the little girl followed her out of the office.

"Something very peculiar is going on with you," the boy said bluntly once they were gone. He looked at the candy maker, his expression filled with skepticism. "You're giving me more money than I could ever hope to spend, and now you're acting like you've got it really bad."

"What do I have?" He asked. When Charlie did not immediately answer, he continued. "You know, I am absolutely sure that I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear boy," Willy said as he went over to the coat rack and stuffed what looked to be a small wallet into the pocket of dark green colored trench coat. Once the small object was securely packed away, he turned and looked at Charlie. "You care to enlighten me?"

"It's just that you're acting so different," Charlie began. "Two days ago you were acting as though Christmas was something to dread. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that I don't like it, but it's confusing. I mean; look around, you even got that stack of Christmas cards done and I know that you have been dreading having to do it ever since Mr. Wilkenson said that he couldn't do it this year. I sort of figured that I would be the one stuck with that chore at the very last minute."

"Melanie and I got them all done last night," Willy said. "I even went out and mailed them this morning. Why is this a problem? I figured you'd be happy about it."

"It's not a problem, it just seems out of character. I mean, you were acting really sad two days ago when I mentioned Christmas and now you're acting…differently about it. It's almost like…" his voice trailed.

"…Like?" Willy turned and looked at Charlie.

"Like you're falling in love," Charlie said honestly.

"Me? In love?" Willy waved his hand nonchalantly. "That's ridiculous."

"It is not, it happens, Willy," Charlie shot back. "Even Mum said that you were looking at Melanie last night over dinner in the same way she used to look at my dad."

"That's absurd," the candy maker responded. "Charlie, I only met Melanie two days ago. I can't be in love with her. It is an absolutely preposterous notion."

"I don't really think it is," Charlie mused. "You're a nice guy, OK, you've got a strange sense of humor and equally bizarre clothing style, but it could happen." He paused as he regarded his mentor through curious eyes. "So what are you getting her for Christmas anyway?"

"I have no idea," he said as he released a pent up sigh. "She's got this fascination with fudge and I was going to show her how to make it."

"Fudge?" Charlie asked. "You can't give a woman fudge. Do you know what would happen?"

"What?" This time Willy looked at his protégé with confusion lining his face.

"She would accuse you of trying to make her fat," Charlie chuckled under his breath. "If you really like her, you have to get her some jewelry or maybe a bottle of nice perfume. That's what my dad used to give my mother when he was alive."

"I don't know," he muttered.

"What are her interests?" He asked.

"I don't really know very much about her," Willy confessed. "I know that she studied to be a baker's assistant in college, but she never found a job with it. She seems to be rather fascinated with it, but I don't know why that is."

"But you said that you were afraid that she had lied to you," Charlie objected.

"I know, and I confronted her about it last night before we came to dinner," he said softly. "Charlie, she cried."

"Cried?" The boy asked.

"Yes, and it made me feel terribly and I suddenly wished that I hadn't said a word. Melanie has some self-image issues that are holding her back," he said. "I didn't realize it at the time, but I see so many things in her that remind me of myself."

Charlie looked into the eyes of the chocolatier. "That explains why she looked rather taken by you over dinner."

The chocolatier shook his head. "This coming from someone who said that girls are gross and that love is for ninnies," Willy said. "Or are you trying to match me up because there is a certain little girl who seems to get stars in her eyes whenever she looks at you?" He nudged the boy and this time Charlie blushed.

"Willy, you are insane," he said with a snort.

"Perhaps, but maybe that's why we get on so well," the chocolatier laughed. "In all seriousness, you don't mind watching out for the two of them while I do my shopping?"

"Not at all," Charlie said. "But for the record, I do think you're falling in love with Melanie."

With that the boy left the office and Willy stared after him. Maybe Charlie was right, he thought, maybe I am starting to really like her. Once they had managed to get beyond the pretense and the lies, he had found a kindhearted and loving young woman in her. She cared for Sarah as though she was her older sister. Compounded with that, she also thought about the place where she had grown up. Maybe there is something for me to learn from her, he thought as he left the office.

One thing was blatantly clear, Melanie had started to teach the lonely chocolatier about Christmas, and he was grateful to her for that. Now, the question that still loomed over him was what specifically he was going to get her for Christmas.

* * *

An hour after leaving the factory, Willy was walking alongside Maggie Richardson. The older woman's cheeks were flushed with happiness as the cold breeze wafted against them. After he had arrived at the orphanage with Charlie and Melanie, they took some of the younger children with them and set off for a visit with Father Christmas. The idea had been a good one, he thought. It also gave him and the house mother ample opportunity to sneak off and do their shopping.

"Bobby was surprised that you came today, he kept telling me over dinner last night that you were not to be trusted or counted on," she mumbled as they made their way along the busy London streets. She stopped at a crosswalk, turned, and looked at the chocolatier. "I'm really glad that you proved him wrong."

"I am too," he said as the light changed and they crossed over the busy street and reached the central shopping district. For several minutes, they walked in companionable silence, while Willy took in the decorations that adorned the shops. They were covered with lights, tinsel, and garland. Some of them even had large displays along the streets where shoppers could stop and dig through bins for inexpensive gifts. "It's really beautiful out here."

"I take it that it's been a long time since you last saw this sort of thing, right William?" She asked all the while using his given name as opposed to his marketable one. They had agreed to this before leaving the orphanage, and with the vast number of people who were out and about, the chocolatier was glad that this suggestion was made.

Instead of speaking, Willy nodded, his eyes trying to take in all the things at once. It suddenly became clear to him what Charlie must have experienced the first time he saw the Chocolate Room. The lights and the sounds of the holidays had really taken the reclusive candy maker aback. "Where should we go first?" He asked as they passed a cider stand and the scent of hot apple cider suddenly beckoned him to stop. "Wait, I think I know."

"You're a child at heart," she said as they made their way over to the stand and he ordered two cups of cider. While he pulled the money from his pocket, she carried the cups over to a table and waited for him to get his change and join her. Once he did, they stood at the tall table and sipped the cider as Christmas music played in the distance. Willy found himself watching the people, his cheeks taking on a reddish hue, thus indicative that his face was getting cold. He seemed not to care, his eyes danced around the area in childlike merriment.

"It's been so long since I've experienced anything like this," He said.

"It's this way every year. There's a market further down where they sell wooden objects and handmade signs. You can get small ones for your kitchen or bathroom with all sorts of themes painted on them. They also sell ornaments and Christmas decorations. They have stands where you can buy food and drink."

"It sounds wonderful, will you show me?" He asked.

"Of course, I'll show you everything," she smiled at him as she sipped her drink, the warmth of it cursing through her and leaving a virtual glow about her. "You know, I never thought that I would be able to enjoy the holidays as much as I am doing right now. I only wish…"

"…You wish your husband could be here, don't you?" He asked.

Maggie nodded. "Yes, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

Willy smiled. "Mrs. Bucket sometimes says the same thing, but you know there's still time before Christmas for him to finish his tasks and get back here. Maybe he will get done early and can surprise all of you."

"That would be nice," she said wistfully. "You sound a bit more optimistic than you did yesterday when we spoke in the parlor," she paused. "It suits you, William."

Willy smiled, but took a sip of the cider. When he replaced his cup, he looked over at her. "Last night, Melanie helped me get my Christmas cards done. It was exhausting work but it was a lot more fun than I anticipated."

"That sounds like something Melanie would do. You know contrary to all the challenges she has had in her life, she dearly loves Christmas. I don't know if she told you this, and perhaps it may seem wrong of me to speak of it, but she was left on our doorstep on Christmas eve. My husband always called her 'our Christmas miracle'. Perhaps that was why it is she grew up with so much Christmas cheer." Maggie took a deep breath but continued speaking. "She has probably a hundred and one different reasons to feel sad during this time of year, but she doesn't. Her happiness is real, and she somehow finds a way to hang on to every last bit of hope that exists. I cannot express how often I have wanted to give up, and then she says something that makes so much sense. She has no idea about the power of her words. They are chocked full of so much wisdom."

"They are," he said. "I thought…"

"…You thought that she wasn't genuine, is that it?" She asked.

Willy looked out across the crowds as they walked along the promenade. "I guess that is what I assumed," he whispered. "Now I know that I want to do something special for her, not because I feel it's right, but because I really want to…"

"…You care for her," Maggie finished as she reached over and rested a gloved hand on his. "You don't have to explain, it's written all over your face."

Willy finished the last of his cider and stared for a moment down at the cup. "Everything is happening so quickly, Maggie."

"You're obviously on what is sometimes referred to as an 'emotional rollercoaster'," she said. "You've had all these changes take place during the course of the last days and it's becoming difficult for you to make heads or tails of it. Sometimes getting into the spirit of the holidays does that to a person. It makes you feel like you're going crazy."

He nodded numbly. "I suppose that's it. Do people usually get reminded of family and conflicts at this time of year?"

"It does happen," she said. "I think that it is hard for people to make out what it really means. We can share what it means to us, but William, you spent so much time alone that you have sort of lost the spark, even though you seem to live the generosity of the season every day."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at what you're doing for the children," she said. "Come on, let's get going, maybe when we start getting these gifts bought you'll understand what I mean."


	14. Chapter 14: Willy's Discovery

_To answer the question that was raised about whether or not I dubbed Santa Claus with the correct name. Father Christmas is the name for Santa Claus (Kris Kringle) that I have heard mention of during my trips to London, thus I have opted to using that name in reference to him. Since most of my Wonka stories are set in London, it seems only natural to go with the cultural diversities as opposed to using the stuff in North America or the USA._

_Since I too live in Europe, most of my stories are using the European equivalants of things because it is what I am accustomed to. Hopefully, that clarifies._

* * *

**  
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**Chapter 14: Willy's Discovery**

The bright lights of the rows of stores beckoned Maggie and Willy about ten minutes after leaving the cider stand. The warmth of the first department store welcomed them as they walked through the doors and into the busy looking building. Willy was somewhat taken aback by the sheer amounts of merchandise that were housed in one place. He started to ponder whether or not the ground level was the same size or bigger than his Chocolate Room.

Instead of speaking, he followed Maggie through the throngs of people until they reached the far end of the store. The smells of sweets filled the chocolatier's sensitive nose and he inhaled the appetizing fragrances as he inched his way closer to a display where several attendants stood dressed in white outfits and Santa hats.

He began to look through the glass window to see the various assortments of fudge, truffles, and alcohol-filled specialties. He smiled as he took in the various brands, a small corner bearing his name. At that moment, he was quite glad that he had opted to not dress in his usual style.

"This is the kind of job that Melanie always wanted, to pass out samples of fudge and to share the sweets of the season with others," Maggie said as one of the attendants offered them a sample of the strawberry flavored fudge. Willy watched as Maggie casually accepted a piece and so he followed the example and selected a piece for himself.

Once Maggie had tasted it and swallowed, the attendant, a gray headed lady looked at them. "How do you like it?" She asked.

Willy looked at Maggie, his expression unreadable. "There's a tiny bit too much powdered sugar for my tastes," she said honestly. "Otherwise, it's really quite good."

The woman smiled, "I'll pass that on to our confectioner." She turned and looked at Willy. "Do you like it?"

"It's quite good," he said. "Of course, I like it sweet."

With a parting glance, Willy and she walked away. Several meters from the stand she turned and looked over at him. "It did have too much powdered sugar, didn't it?" She asked with a wink.

"It would have been too presumptuous of me to have commented," he said with a casual glance back towards the confectioners stand. "If I said mine was better they would have coined me for arrogant."

Maggie laughed as they walked further past the candies and Willy spotted something that brought a smile to his face.

On a stand were various ornaments that were hanging from a small table top tree. The white lights that blinked on and off created a nice ambiance. Several dozen of his Scrumdidlyumptious bars were kept under the tree, their holiday wrappers bringing a smile to his face. Instead of having the signature top hat, the orange and brown colored wrappers had a festive red Santa hat, which had a distinctively decorative touch.

He smiled. This had been another of Wilkenson's ideas to help with holiday candy sales. The idea started the same year they had put out the first batch of Wonka ornaments. They had sold out like gangbusters and the chocolatier eventually agreed with his employee that making the seasonal candy bars had been a brilliant idea.

He remained standing and staring at the ornaments and the candy until a hand touched his shoulder. He turned and saw Maggie standing beside him. She too was looking at the display, albeit not as intensely as he was. Her attention had been diverted and she now spoke to him. "William, I have to go and get some winter socks for Tabitha, I'll be right back."

Willy nodded and watched as she disappeared through the crowd. He reached over and picked up one of the ornaments and held it up for some moments, the light dancing off of the silver ends. After several minutes, he grabbed one of the candy bars as well and made his way over to the cash register. He truly was enjoying the irony of standing in front of such a display and not being recognized.

After waiting in line for several minutes, he placed the items on the counter and waited for the young woman to ring it up. When she saw the decoration, she raised her head. "Oh, Sir, I'm really sorry, these ornaments aren't for sale, they're just a part of the display," she explained.

"Could you make an exception?" He asked. "Please, I want to give it as a gift."

The girl took a deep breath. "The ornaments are a very popular item and the ones from the display are the only ones left in the store."

Willy took a deep breath and released it. "I understand, I'll put it back." He pulled the small wallet from his coat and dug around until he found some coins to pay for the candy. Behind him, standing in the line stood a boy and girl. The boy looked older, about nine or ten, the girl looked to be about seven. He said nothing to the kids, instead accepted the small bag with the candy inside.

Before he could walk away, the little girl spoke up. "Hey Mister, you know who you look like?"

"Who?" He asked.

"Willy Wonka," she said boldly.

Before the chocolatier could even respond, her older brother spoke up, his voice laced in superiority. "No he don't. You know that Mr. Wonka always wears a top hat."

Willy smiled but started to walk back over to the display. What he failed to notice was the girl at the cash register. She was now watching as he walked away, her thoughts literally racing as she rang up the items for the two children.

As Willy returned to the display and hung the decoration back on the tree, he released a pent up sigh. Sinking into his contemplations, he tried to remember if there were any still of these ornaments left lying around the factory. He had told the Oompa Loompas to send them all out and his workers always followed his directions. He knew from the girl's words that this store was probably the last place in London where he could get one.

"This ornament really means a great deal to you, doesn't it?" The voice of the woman from the cash register emerged and he turned to see that she was standing beside him looking at the tree.

"I suppose it does," he said.

"What those kids said back at the register, was it true?" She asked.

Willy's eyes widened somewhat, but he spoke, his voice soft. "What do you believe?"

"Well, I once saw a famous person here," she said. "An actor that I liked, but I couldn't say anything. If my manager found out, then I could have gotten into trouble."

"Why?"

"It's store policy," she said.

"Why aren't you at your register?" He asked curiously.

"I get fifteen minute break when I work a four hour shift," she said as she looked at the tree. "You know since it is Christmas, I guess I can see if I can get you one of these ornaments." She picked one from off the tree. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Willy nodded and watched as the girl dashed off.

* * *

After about five minutes of waiting, the girl returned to his side. "The manager said that I am not authorized to sell these ornaments to the customers," she said softly, but pulled a small red and white package from behind her back. "He said there was nothing wrong with me giving one to you."

"Give it to me?" He asked, his expression filled with confusion. "I don't understand."

"Well, can I tell you a secret and trust that you won't tell anyone?" She asked.

"Of course, I am quite adept at keeping things under my hat," he said smiling at the irony of that statement.

"I recognized who you were after those children spoke and I figured that you wouldn't lie to me about the importance of this decoration. That was why I asked if I could give you my ornament," she confessed.

"Your ornament?"

"Yes, the management decided to give the employees the decorations from the various trees that are displayed throughout the store. The one I selected was from off this particular tree. So, since I work in this department, they agreed that I could have one of the ornaments. The nice thing is that the manager agreed to let me take it now. So, it's now yours."

"I should at least give you something for this," he objected."

The girl shook her head. "If I do, I could get into trouble. I figure a simple 'thank you' and 'Happy Christmas' would be enough." She smiled despite herself as Willy leaned over and read her name tag. It read the name 'Laura Jansen'.

"Thank you, and Happy Christmas," Willy repeated her words almost verbatim and offered her a bright smiled.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she said just before distancing herself and disappearing in the crowd.

Once she was gone, Willy took a deep breath before placing the gift inside his pocket before retrieving a small notebook from them. He would have to send something to her once he was able to find her address. It would be a nice surprise for her and perhaps she would then realize with whom she had spoken to. He smiled as he wrote the name down and then returned the book to his pocket.

As he was adjusting his coat, Maggie came over to where he stood, a parcel in her hands. "I got everything I need, so we can head to the toy department," she said, but watched as Willy stared at the ornaments. "Those are lovely, aren't they? You know, Melanie gave me one several years ago and I keep in the cabinet in the dining room. I know they look like cheap pieces of plastic, but there is something really nice about them." She paused and she looked at him. "Are you ready to get going?"

Willy nodded as they headed in the direction of the toy department.

* * *

After several hours of shopping, Willy was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to sit down somewhere and drink something hot and refreshing. Maggie seemed to have more energy than an Oompa Loompa that had overdosed on cocoa beans.

"You alright?" She eventually asked as they divided up the packages and discovered that both their hands were full. "I think we got something for all the children, and for your friends as well."

"I still need to get something for Melanie," he said. "I just have no idea what she might like. Of course, right now, I think I could stand to drink something hot before we set out and do anymore shopping."

She nodded and they went into a bakery and Maggie ordered them each a piece of chocolate cheesecake and a cup of coffee. Once the pieces of cake were on plates, Willy brought them over to the table while Maggie paid the bill. As they seated themselves in a corner table, Willy found himself taking casual glances out the window.

I have not been this tired in years, he thought, all the while trying to stifle a yawn

"Are you alright, Willy?" Maggie asked, this time using his preferred name since they were completely alone, and her words are soft.

He raised his head. "Aside from being very tired, my thoughts seem to be drifting."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Something Charlie said earlier," he said.

"And what did Charlie say that has you so worried?" She asked.

He raised his head and looked at her, a haunted look suddenly crossing his face.

Maggie knew this look all too well, she had seen it with the various children she had raised, and now she was seeing it in one of England's most famous people. She reached over and touched his hand. When he raised his head, she could see that he carried the very same confusion a preteen boy did when he wanted to tell a girl that he liked her but was scared of rejection.

"You are falling in love with Melanie and you just don't know how to contend with it. The speed at which it happened is rather strange, I know, but whether you believe it or not, there is such a thing as love at first sight. Don't try to rationalize how you feel or why it is someone has snared your heart as quickly as she has."

Willy looked at her, and could sense that somehow the woman was able to read his feelings like a dime store novel. Instead of mentioning this, he rubbed his hand over his mouth and then began to speak. "I have so much in common with her, Maggie. There are so many ways that we are alike. I know that we only met two days ago, but Maggie, I can't get her out of my mind. How is it that someone can leave that kind of impact on another person?"

"When did you feel it the first time?" She asked.

"Last night, after she told the truth about the job and the situation she faced. She ended up crying and Sarah told me to hug her. I wouldn't have thought to do that, but suddenly I was taking my cues from a little girl," he shook his head. "It scared me. I'm not very good with people, I don't know how to behave around them and I know as much about being in love as I do about Christmas." He looked at her, his eyes closing momentarily.

"That's something I can't show you, I'm afraid. Willy, I can just be your friend," she said. "I know that you are fully aware that Melanie has strong emotions and perhaps some of them are centered on you. I have pondered if her feelings for you are about what she's heard in the press, or what the impact you have left with all of us. You know, I could tell that she was smitten because of the way she was looking at you when we were in the kitchen yesterday. I don't know what her feelings are, but I can tell that she does like you very much."

"But Maggie, she doesn't really know me," he whispered.

"She's getting to know you, just as we all are, and she's discovering in herself the magic that she holds. Perhaps it has appeared as though you are the one who holds all the magic that exists. You see, Willy, in order for you to share your magic, then someone must be there to share theirs with you." Maggie smiled at him as she continued. "You're not the only person who has magic inside, Willy. Just about every person you will ever meet is going to light a spark inside of you and that will make a very big difference in your life, and in her life."

Willy nodded. "You're very wise."

"No, I'm just old," she patted his hand and laughed. "Now drink up so you can warm up, your hands are like ice."

Willy picked up the cup and took a sip, his eyes closing contentedly as he felt the hot liquid burning a trail down his throat. He reached for the fork and stabbed himself a piece of the chocolate cheesecake. When he tasted it, he smiled. "This is…mine…I mean, one of the cakes that my factory produces."

Maggie smiled brightly. "I thought that would cheer you up."

"More than you know, dear lady," he said smiling, his blue eyes once more taking on a their typical shine.


	15. Chapter 15: Heartfelt Cries

_Hi everyone, you'll be glad to know that this story is finished. I have some editing to do before I post the parts, but finished the overall project today. I will be posting two chapters tomorrow, two on Thursday and one on Friday morning before we leave._

_I hope that you enjoy this latest installment. I had a hard time with it because I don't like Willy to get hurt, not even a little bit. One of the things I really like about this chapter is the fact that not everything good that happens is catalyzed by Willy. That's something that I feel is very important to note in this, that while he's catalyzed some good in the lives of the people, he didn't catalyze everything. I think it holds an element of realism this way._

_Enjoy, and please review._

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**Chapter 15: Heartfelt Cries**

By the time Willy and Maggie returned to the orphanage, Bobby was standing on the porch waiting. His face, as usual was lined with a scowl and Maggie inhaled as she and Willy walked past him and into the house.

"What's all this?" The boy asked, his skeptical eyes staring at the presents that were in his mother's arms.

"It's a horde of Christmas presents, what does it look like?" Maggie asked with a cheerful smile crossing her face. When her son responded, that happy expression vanished completely.

"It looks more like a payoff," the boy said just loud enough that Willy heard his spiteful words. Instead of speaking, the candy maker stopped and turned around.

"It's nothing of the sort," he said. "Maggie, let's get these under the tree."

"There isn't a tree," the boy spat.

"Then we'll have to get one, won't we?" Willy said trying to keep his voice cheerful. It was plain to see that the candy maker was not in the mood to have a battle of wits with a twelve-year-old boy. Bobby's behavior was not going to ruin his good mood, but casting a glance towards Maggie, he could see that she was affected by her son's words much more than she was even willing to let on.

He followed Maggie into the parlor and unloaded the packages. "Maggie, I think I know what is going on," he said.

"Then please fill me in because I have no idea why he's behaving this way," she said. "His father and I didn't raise him that way."

"That's what it is, Bobby's father is not here, and he sees me as a replacement," he said. "The problem is that it seems obvious to all of us that Bobby believes that his father has walked out on him."

"But Raymond didn't," she whispered as she sat down on the sofa.

"I know, but it seems as though Bobby is frightened. He's pushing everyone away because of this. As long as he keeps his distance he won't get hurt," Willy explained. "I did the same thing when I made the decision and closed the factory. I sat there alone and friendless for many years. You see, dear lady, that's why I didn't know about Christmas, about shopping and buying gifts, but you taught me that today. You helped me to see that Christmas is really a happy and joyous time, but your son is not experiencing those things."

"He won't let himself," she said sadly.

"No, he's afraid to have fun and be happy because he thinks that someone will come along and take that away from him," Willy stood up and walked over to the packages. "I'm sorry that I didn't see it before. Maggie, how much does Bobby know about me?"

"You mean about the fame?" She asked.

"Yes," Willy said. "What does he know about the factory, and about what I did when I fired my workers and isolated myself?"

"I don't really know what he thought," she said. "He had just turned six when you closed the factory," she said as she rubbed her hands together. "I don't really know what all he knew of you because it was so long ago, but he was very sad at the time it happened."

"What about the Golden Tickets, did he try to find one?" Willy asked.

"Yes, he wanted one, but that was around the time that Raymond took the other job, so we didn't have many opportunities to buy candy bars. Most of the children were excited about it, but Bobby's behavior was different somehow. I could tell that he wanted to see it, but didn't really view himself as being good enough for it. That compounded with his father leaving must have been too much for him. That's when I started to notice changes in him." As her words emerged, fresh tears began to stream down her face. "Now, he's pushing everyone away."

"Just as I did," Willy said. "I figured that if I did it first then there would be no one left to hurt me. I honestly didn't see it before, but then with all the times we've talked, and all the things that have happened, that must be the reason behind it."

"What can we do?" She asked.

"I don't know," he said. "One of the things you should probably tell him is that there is no way that I would ever try and replace Raymond. He seems to believe that because we are friends, that I am trying to muscle in as some sort of father figure. I don't want that anymore than Bobby would, I just want to be the boy's friend."

"I'll tell him," she said.

Willy nodded. "Meanwhile, you just gave me an idea for a Christmas present for Bobby."

"We already got something for him," she objected as she motioned towards the packages that were stacked in the corner.

"Not to worry, dear lady, this won't be from you, it's going to be from me," he said. "Just wait and see, what's the point of being a chocolatier if I can't weave a little magic of my own now and again?"

She smiled and looked at him. "I can't convince you otherwise, can I?"

He shook his head. "Believe me, based on what you just told me, I don't think you will want to."

* * *

Ten minutes after arriving back at the orphanage, Charlie, Melanie, and Sarah returned there to see if Willy and Maggie were back. When they reached the door, they noticed that Bobby was standing against the door his head bowed and his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Hey Bobby," Melanie said. "Did Willy and your mum get back?"

"Yeah, they're back," he grumbled, but looked at Charlie. "Aren't you Willy Wonka's little gofer?"

"I prefer the word 'friend'," Charlie said matter-of-factly.

"You're the kid who won everything," Bobby said mockingly. "Did you come here to talk down at us lowlifes?"

Charlie exchanged glances with Melanie and Sarah. "I never would call you or the people who live here that. You shouldn't put words into other people's mouths like that."

"Oh really, well pansy, I don't much care about that," Bobby said. "Your kind make me sick. You get everything handed to you and have it made." As he spoke, he started push Charlie in very much the same way that he had pushed Willy in the park.

"Stop it," Sarah cried out. "You're just being mean again. Who are you going to beat up on next?"

"That's what I want to know," a voice emerged and the four people standing on the porch turned to see that Maggie and Willy had joined them. It was clear that they had heard the commotion from outside and were now getting involved. Willy was concerned that Charlie would get hurt, and now he was standing in the doorway looking at them. "Charlie, take Melanie and Sarah inside," he instructed.

"But Willy," the boy objected.

"Charlie!" The chocolatier raised his voice but looked at his charge, his expression now laced with alarm. "Please just do as I ask and go inside. Let me take care of this."

Willy knew that he was responsible for his charge's well being. Right now, he knew that if they were to return to the factory and Charlie had a black eye, then his mother would not be happy at all. It was bad enough that he could get hurt, but this was not what any of them anticipated.

Sensing his mentor's concern, Charlie reached for Sarah's hand as Willy looked at Maggie. "Trust me," he said calmly and watched as she and Melanie backed slowly into the house.

Once the door was closed and Bobby and Willy were alone, the candy maker looked at the boy. "Now then, it's more than obvious that you are angry about something and perhaps you are angry that I have decided to come back here in the wake of your emotional outbursts."

Bobby said nothing, instead he just stared at the man in the same manner that he had done at the park.

Willy sat down on the front step and looked at the boy. "You have decided to hate me haven't you?"

Instead of speaking, the boy turned away and said nothing.

The chocolatier glanced over towards the sign. "I can imagine that being the only child here who is not an orphan is probably hard."

Bobby turned around, his gaze coming to rest on the man seated on the porch.

"Did you know that my father left me at a similar place when I was about your age?" He asked openly.

"He did?" Bobby's resolve to not speak to Willy seemed to be faltering and the child turned and faced him. The light from inside the house now cast shadows across his face and for a split second the man reminded him of an angel instead of just a disheveled candy maker.

"Yes, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that everything was OK, I couldn't, because I knew that it wasn't," Willy said, his next words emerging in an exhalation of breath. "Sometimes all a person can do is cry."

"Real men don't cry," Bobby said sullenly.

"They also don't hit girls, but you seem to not have any problems with that," Willy said sternly. "Somehow, I think you did this because you have so much anger and sadness built up inside of you that you had no idea what to do with it. All you know is that if you don't find an outlet for it, you will explode. Maybe that's why you pushed me in the park the other day."

The boy looked at the chocolatier, but no words emerged. Instead, Willy continued to speak, his words simple. "Well, Bobby, you want to get that anger out, here I am. You can push me around, hit me, scream or yell all you won't. I will not fight back, I will not hit you. The cane is at the factory so I have no means of protecting myself. The only thing is I will not let you do is hit Sarah, ridicule Melanie, or be hurtful towards your mother. So, let's get this behind us, shall we?"

"I don't understand," the boy whispered.

Without saying so much as another word, Willy stood up and came down off the porch, his body now standing out in the open. "It's very simple, you want a punching bag, you've got one. Your family has been put through enough because of your hostility."

The chocolatier remained standing unmoving, but watched as Bobby started to walk over to where he stood. The boy's hands clenched into fists and it looked as though he was going to try and throw several punches.

When it suddenly happened, Willy was taken aback as the breath was forced from him. He could feel that the boy's strength was more intense than he had anticipated. He could do nothing except prepare himself for a second, a third, even a fourth blow from the angry youth. As he felt the painful hits against his chest, he backed away only to fall over the sign and land in the holly bush that was painstakingly planted at the front of the property. The sharpness of these particular plants scraped against his hands caused him to grimace. Instead of trying to defend himself, he simply tried to get back on his feet, but his coordination was off and he ended up falling backwards.

Bobby came even closer to him, and when he saw the shadow of the boy over him, Willy closed his eyes wondering all the while if his actions had helped matters or succeeded in making them worse.

"Robert Richardson, you stop that this instant!" A booming voice suddenly emerged and the boy turned around.

Willy heard the same voice and turned his head to see that a large truck had pulled up and parked itself along the edge of the street. The driver had gotten out and rounded the cab until he stood next to the gate.

Ignoring Willy's plight, Bobby spoke, his single word cracking with emotion as he turned around and stared in the direction that the voice had originated. "Dad!"

Willy watched as the boy practically broke into a run and crossed the front yard in record time and soon found himself wrapped in the arms of his father.

"Thank God," Willy whispered under his breath as the front door flew open. Maggie and several of the children practically flew out of the house and into the arms of the man who had just arrived on the scene.

After several seconds, Willy suddenly felt someone's hand reaching for his. When he felt the softness of their fingers encircling his hand, he opened his eyes and raised his head.

"Melanie," he managed to speak as the young woman reached for his second hand and carefully began to pull him out of the holly and away from the dampness of the flower box.

"Mr. Richardson is back." The excited cries of the children filled their ears before Melanie could even speak. At that moment, the only audible sound Willy could detect came from the plodding footsteps of the children as they trampled over to greet Mr. Richardson.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, the only thing that Willy Wonka was consciously aware of at that point was the young woman who had helped him back on his feet.

"Willy," she whispered his name, and without stopping to think about what she was doing, she embraced him, her face she buried against his chest. "A-are you OK?" She asked, still not releasing him for fear that he would fall over.

It seemed abundantly clear to him that she had been worried about his well being. He had actually been worried about himself as well, but he closed his eyes momentarily wondering if she was going to let him go. Somehow, he was not wanting her to let go.

Unconsciously, Willy raised his arms and returned her embrace. "I'm alright, Melanie," he said, his words gentle contrary to the dizziness that he still felt. After several moments, she released her hold on him. "He packs quite a punch," he mused.

Melanie raised her head and looked at him, her expression a strange mixture of shock, concern, as well as intrigue. "Willy Wonka, have you gone and completely lost your mind?" She asked.

"Maybe I have," he smirked. "It's rather a hard call to make. Not to worry Melanie, I've had failed experiments pack a heftier punch than that. I just didn't expect Bobby to make me a part of the decorations around here." As if to add emphasis to these words, he plucked a small piece of holly from his coat and allowed it to fall to the ground.


	16. Chapter 16: Gifts of the Heart

_Enjoy, and please review._

_ Word filled in, thanks for catching that YaYa.   
_

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**Chapter 16: Gifts of the Heart**

Instead of returning inside, Willy decided to collect the gifts he had found for Charlie's family and return with his protégé to the factory. The Richardson family were back together and would be able to resolve their problems and he could go back to his life of isolation.

What he did not expect was for Melanie to follow him through the house to the front door and outside. "Sarah's coming, she just wanted to tell Mr. Richardson good night before we leave."

"You still want to come back with us?" Willy asked as he shifted the bags around in one of his hands.

"If we can," she said smiling playfully at him. "You promised me that we could make fudge. Who am I to turn down such an offer as that?"

The chocolatier smiled and this time, instead of responding, he offered his arm to her and smiled when she accepted.

Seconds later, Sarah came outside, but joined Charlie instead of the two of them. Melanie was starting to wonder if the child really knew what her feelings were for the chocolatier because she always seemed to make herself scarce in moments such as these. She watched as Sarah gathered some snow in her hands and started forming them as snowballs so that she could pelt them at Charlie. The boy quickly retaliated.

As the two kids continued to play in the snow, Willy smiled while several snowballs flew through the air as they were walked back towards the factory. "It feels like Christmas," he said smiling. "I had seen things of this nature in films and read about them in books, but I have never really felt a part of them."

Melanie smiled. "I started noticing this during my studies. I never thought all that much about it, but I did feel as though there was something very special about it, something that I knew I was missing out on."

"You know, I was feeling rather sorry for myself right after we met," he confessed. "I wanted to find something that would give me the Christmas spirit that I didn't even think that perhaps my behavior was contributing to my sadness. I remembered a saying this afternoon when Maggie and I were out shopping."

"What is it?" She asked.

"'Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas'," he said softly. "Dale Evans said that and it sounded so true. I was seeing all sorts of things like that and they reminded me of the reasons I loved Christmas as a child."

"It's never too late," she said softly as they reached the gate to the factory and watched as Charlie and Sarah continued slinging snowballs at one another.

Willy handed her the packages and dug in his pocket for his keys. When he found them, he opened the gate. As the two children rushed inside, Melanie found herself standing, loaded down with gifts, but neither caring nor concerned by this fact. Instead, she simply stood there and waited for him to lock the gate.

As soon as they had reached the warmth of the factory, Willy led them through the halls in the direction of his office. "I need to leave these packages somewhere where curious people won't think of looking for them." He grinned at Charlie, but watched as the two kids left them alone announcing that they were going to help Mrs. Bucket with dinner.

"You know; I think they planned that the whole time," Willy smirked.

"Probably," she mused. "So what now?"

"Why don't we go and make some fudge?" He said. "Since you seem to be rather happy about that particular idea."

"Could we do it tomorrow?" She asked. "I'm just so tired. It's been such an exhausting day. I just want to eat something and go to sleep."

Willy nodded. "Tomorrow it is," he said softly. "Would you like to see something before we go have dinner, Melanie?"

"What?" She asked.

"It's a surprise, but I think it's one that you will like," he said smiling. "Come with me, we can take the Wonkavator and we'll be there in no time."

Melanie nodded and followed him towards the strangely shaped object.

* * *

Five minutes later, they had arrived at the Wonkavator stop. Willy was happy that Melanie had handled his flying machine without any problems. All too often the speed that the machine used tended to frighten its passengers, but Melanie seemed to be in very high spirits contrary to the issues of the day. 

He slowly opened the door and they stepped out into a hallway. "We're almost there," he said as they reached the tiny sized door that led into the nerve-center of the factory. Willy smiled as she started to stoop.

"I feel like I'm in Alice in Wonderland," she whispered as he lowered what looked to be a tiny musical instrument and turned around and faced her.

"Just wait," he smiled secretly as he played s short melody that she could not place, but figured if it was important, she would know what it was.

He slowly opened the door to the Chocolate Room, and the two of them entered the large colorful room. "Melanie, it's time for you to really see what it looks like from the inside," he whispered, his arm wrapping around her from behind.

As Willy urged her forward, he watched as she began to take in what lie before her. He watched as her gaze scanned the room, thus drifting from one delicious confection to another.

She unconsciously licked her lips as he started to draw her towards the stairs that would lead down into his paradise. "This is how it looks," he whispered, his voice soft and silky as it resonated in her right ear. As the words filled her, she reached one of her hands towards where his rested on her shoulder and covered it.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "Just as I imagined it would be."

"Is it just as you imagined?" He asked as he bade her down the stairs and when they finally reached the landing, she turned and faced him.

"No, Willy, it's a far cry better than anything that I could have imagined. It's like walking straight into a dream and hoping that I never wake from it." Without warming, Melanie Jarvis began to cry. "Oh my God, this is real, this is all so real."

Instead of speaking, Willy pulled her gently into his embrace. With her standing right in front of him, he allowed his hands to rise a fraction so that he could cup her face. This time he did not need the coaxing of a little girl, he knew exactly what he was doing and wordlessly, he tipped her face up so that she was looking up and into his eyes. "It's all real, Melanie," he whispered as he slowly lowered his head and allowed his lips to brush gently against hers.

Upon feeling this, she shivered as sheer delight washed over her. "Willy?" She whispered his name, but that seemed to fade. "This is a dream, isn't it?" She raised her hand with the intention of touching his face. As she felt the smooth skin beneath her fingers, she bit down on her lip.

"It's better than a dream," he said softly as he touched her lower lip with his index finger and watched as she released it. He looked deeply into her eyes. "You gave me such a precious gift," he whispered. "Christmas was something I dreaded, but I don't anymore, because you're here and as long as I know that, I won't be lonely anymore."

"I-I did that?" She whispered. "I thought it was Mrs. Richardson or Sarah. I wanted to believe that I could make a difference, but I…" her voice trailed as his two fingers silenced her.

"Shhh," he whispered and slowly moved his fingers away from her lips. Wordlessly, he replaced those fingers with his lips, the softness of his kiss making her melt like chocolate on a summer's day.

I must be dreaming, Melanie thought as she felt the gentle persuasion of Willy's lips against hers. Please, God, she internally prayed, don't let this be like a one-night stand where I wake up and the man of my dreams is gone forever. As these thoughts continued to curse through her mind, she hesitantly wound her arms around him, the touch of his hands against her face now lowering until he held her tightly in his arms.

Seconds passed and the kiss broke and she looked up at him and smiled, the look on her face encased with a similar child-like quality he had whenever he was inventing new candies.

"Melanie," he whispered as he touched her face, his fingers stroking her cheeks gently his blue eyes looking at her. He allowed the embrace to end at that moment and instead of remaining standing, he gently took her hand and led her over to a group of the candy cane trees. He sat down and offered his hand to help her lower herself onto the ground beside him.

Once she was seated, she felt herself drawn into the chocolatier's loving hold. She closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up."

Willy shook his head, but looked at her coyly, a mischievous smile touching his lips. "Shall I pinch you?"

"No, I hate getting pinched," her words emerged laced in weak laughter. She looked out across the landscape of Willy Wonka's paradise and after several minutes back at him. "I never would have believed that such a beautiful place could exist except in one's imagination."

Willy squeezed her hand. "The secret is to take all the pictures of your mind and try and make them real. That's all I did."

"It must have worked because this is by far the most beautiful place I've ever seen, and you…" her voice trailed off. "Willy, I have spent so much of my life dreaming of a moment like this. Sometimes, I think that I am out of my mind for fantasizing about something that seems so far removed from reality. I just never thought that that person who would change my life would be you."

He smirked. "So what Ben said about you having a crush on me was true."

She nodded feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious. "It's true," she whispered, but shamefully looked away.

Willy reached over and captured her face with a gentle hand. "You have no reason to feel embarrassed or look away, my dear. As you can probably tell, I have grown quite fond of you as well." As if to emphasize this point, he leaned towards her and captured her lips for a second time.

Melanie melted against him, her hand now tightening its hold on his. After a second, despite her own responsible notions, she allowed her lips to open to his gentle persuasion. Suddenly, she could feel the silkiness of his tongue against her own. This left her feeling virtually spinning. To stop this, she closed her eyes until the kiss broke several minutes later.

"When I saw you on the first of October, I was expecting to see an old man who was strange and different. When you came out and I saw someone handsome and charming, I just stared," she whispered. She raised her head and looked at him at this moment, her hand reaching over and winding a lock of his hair between her fingers. "I stood not far from the gate trying to help Sarah so that she could see what was going on. It was too hard, everyone was so tall and there was no way that I could lift a nine-year-old girl all by myself."

She looked down and shook her head. "Willy, maybe I told you that I wanted to meet you and that when you dropped your cane it was a moment that presented itself to me. You talked to me and made me feel as though I was important…"

"…You are important, don't ever believe otherwise," he said, thus interrupting her. "You must never apologize to me for feeling what you felt, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Would it be too premature of me to tell you that I love you?" She whispered. "I mean, I know we just met and…" her words once more trailed.

Willy took her arms and pulled her tenderly against him, his arms now capturing her and holding her in his embrace. "I love you, too," he whispered.


	17. Chapter 17: The Christmas Eve Dinner

_Enjoy, please review. I'm sort of in a hurry today, so I am not really editing this chapter as much as I would have liked. Let me know if there are any problems and I will correct them._

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**Chapter 17: The Christmas Eve Dinner**

As the time wound down before the big day, Willy discovered something more profound happening in his life than he could have imagined. He was finding himself getting ready for Christmas feeling happier than he had felt in months. In fact, he realized that sometimes there were others who could create as much magic as he, himself, did.

It was the same situation with Mr. Richardson, who was able to return home to be with his family for the holidays. Willy smiled at the notion that he did not have anything to do with what had happened there. He simply knew that he was happy for Maggie and their son. The entire orphanage was encompassed in joy and each time Willy had visited it, he could not help but remember the moment he had been helped out of the holly box and found himself wrapped in Melanie's arms.

He looked down at the small wrapped package that he had for her. He had found it while out shopping with Maggie several days before. He hoped that his gift would be the right one for her and not too much. It was clear that he could do far more for his friends than they could for him, and he did not want anyone to feel badly because of that.

Of course, between work, he had spent every moment he could with Melanie. Through her, he discovered that his feelings were very real and not based on infatuation. The love he felt for her was more real than anything he could conceive in his mind. Her company had saved him from the loneliness that he thought he was destined for.

The day after Mr. Richardson's surprising return, Sarah returned home. He remembered how the little girl had promised to draw him a picture of the Chocolate Room. He remained hopeful that amidst the excitement of the holidays, that she would not forget and that her promise would be kept. He had hung her first drawing amongst the Christmas cards in his office, so that he could see it every day. It was also one of the few things that remained there that hadn't been cut in half.

At that moment, Willy sat at his desk lulling over the gift he had for Bobby. The boy had apologized to him for his behavior, and Willy could see that the boy felt genuine guilt for his actions. He had told him that it was the season of forgiveness and that he, although hurt by the boy's judgments and actions, had forgiven him for everything.

The Christmas gift was the last token of that forgiveness that the chocolatier could offer. It was clear that Bobby was no longer sad and cross, but seemed almost willing to do what he could to make it up to everyone for his beastly behavior.

Of course, Willy did not know the whole story, but he figured that it was not something he necessarily needed to know.

The only thing that changed was that Melanie was living at the factory instead of at the house. She would commute to the Children's Home on a daily basis usually with Willy coming along. She still took pride in helping the house mother get things ready for Christmas, but she was now happier than she had been in years.

Maggie argued that it had more to do with the loving relationship she shared with Willy as opposed to the holidays. Of course, with Willy's help, Melanie had told Maggie what had happened with the job and that she felt dreadfully about having lied. This conversation had ended with both women embracing and crying. Today, the house mother knew that these particular events had changed both Willy and Melanie for the better.

"We are much stronger together than apart," Willy whispered under his breath as he finished his work and got up from the desk. He had to get ready for the Christmas Eve dinner with the Buckets, but instead of going alone and feeling all the worse for it, Melanie would accompany him.

Just before reaching the door, someone tapped lightly and he pulled it open and smiled when he saw Melanie standing on the other side. She was dressed in a red velvet colored Victorian style dress that went down to her feet. The belt that wound around her thin waist was interwoven red green and white, which matched the whiteness that lined the neckline of her dress.

"You look lovely," he smiled as he reached for her hand. "That color is perfect for you."

"But you're not yet ready," she objected. "We have to hurry, it's half past six now and Charlie said that dinner would be ready at seven."

"I know, I'm running behind the time, like you with sugar and flour," he smiled at her.

She giggled and smiled up at him. "Do you have their gifts?"

"No, I hid them in my room, because I know how curious Charlie can be. Listen, would you come with me and we can pick up everything and then go and see his family? He asked as he offered her his arm.

As she wound her arm through his, she smiled up at him. "You know it could be dangerous bringing me to your room right now?"

Willy smirked, but reached over and brushed his fingers lightly against her face. "Perhaps but I would not wish to do anything to mess up your hair, my dear."

Melanie giggled as they stepped into the Wonkavator and zipped off to his room.

* * *

It was five minutes until seven when Willy and Melanie arrived for Christmas-eve dinner. The boy's grandmother Josephine opened the door and smiled when she saw the two of them standing outside, their arms loaded down with packages. "Come in, come in," she said. "Merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Willy said smiling. "You look lovely tonight."

The older woman reached out and took the chocolatier's elbow and bade him to come into the room. Willy was still holding the packages and could not reach for Melanie, but she followed close behind him. Once Melanie had cleared the door, she managed to pull the door closed behind her. They entered the large sitting room, and immediately went over to the large Christmas tree, which was positioned against the far wall.

The dining table was several meters from the tree on the other wall of the room, but it was festively decorated with a white table cloth, chinaware, cloth napkins as well as shiny red and green stars. A large crystal wine decanter stood on the table and glasses were placed at each setting.

"This is lovely," Melanie breathed as they finished placing the gifts under the tree and she straightened out.

"Yes, it is," Willy said as he took got up and they walked over to take in the festively decorated table.

"That is because when Joe and I got married, we were given these dishes and we only bring them out for Christmas," she said as Charlie's grandfather came out dressed in a suit and tie.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Joe said. "Charlie is not fond of ties, and George and I were trying to help him get ready." He extended his hand to Melanie. "My dear, you look lovely."

"If I keep hearing that, then I will eventually believe it," she smiled. "Thank you for including me in your celebration, Mr. Crumpet."

"Let's leave the formatives at the door, my dear," Joe said. "I'm Joe, this is Josephine and that old sour pickle in the other room is George."

"Don't forget Georgina and our beautiful Clara, who are both in the kitchen having a battle of wits with a turkey," Josephine said smiling. "Now, can we offer you a glass of wine?"

Willy nodded. "That sounds wonderful. Come, my dear, let's have another look at the tree. Charlie said he picked it out so it must be very special."

Melanie smiled and they walked over to the tree as Joe looked at his wife. "Do you know who they remind you of?"

"You and me right after we met," Josephine said with a smile. "Did Charlie get the mistletoe?"

"Yes, and he's hung it all over the place too. They could end up kissing all night," he affirmed with a soft chuckle as the door to Charlie's room opened and a fidgeting boy emerged.

"Grandpa George, it's not very comfortable," the boy shifted the tie, his complaints drifting out and meeting Willy and Melanie's ears, and the chocolatier began to laugh.

Melanie separated herself and went over to greet the boy. "I think you look very handsome."

Charlie grimaced. "Thanks Mel," he said smiling. "You look really nice too."

"Nice?" Willy left his place at the tree and walked over to his protégé. "She's more than nice, she's…" The chocolatier's words faded as he searched for a proper adjective. When he could not find one, he grinned sheepishly as Charlie pointed upward with a his thumb and carried a shrewd grin on his face.

At that moment, both Willy and Melanie glanced towards the ceiling and immediately recognized that they were now standing directly below one of many pieces of mistletoe.

The couple towards one another and kissed as Charlie diverted his focus. When it broke, Willy smiled. "…Delicious."

"I'm delicious, those are the typical words of a very smooth talking chocolatier," Melanie giggled as George came out of the room.

"I think I'd prefer the turkey," he grumbled as they all laughed.

"Well, it should be ready very soon," Josephine said as she extended a glass of red wine to both Willy and Melanie. "Charlie, what did you want to drink?"

"Orange juice," the boy said. "Wine is too bitter."

The adults smiled. "I used to say the same thing when I was a boy," Willy said.

At that moment Clara and Georgina came out of the kitchen a large platter in their hands and the entire group turned to see that the turkey was being placed in the middle of the table.

As they all burst into applause, Willy watched through surprised eyes. Never had he experienced this sort of festive feeling about a dinner. For whatever reason, it felt nice and he looked at Melanie and smiled. It was clear that the chocolatier was extremely happy at being precisely where he was.

At that moment, Clara motioned with her hands for all of them to sit down at the table.

Willy and Melanie took their seats, their wine glasses they brought over with them and as they sat down, the chocolatier could suddenly feel the tears of happiness brimming from beneath his eyes. He said nothing, instead, he retrieved his handkerchief, and wiped it over his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18: The Night Before Christmas

_Mistake from chapter 16 corrected. Thanks for catching it, YaYa. I made Bobby change since his dad came back, and felt that it would be a good idea. I did elaborate that in chapter 20, which will be posted tomorrow morning._

_Enjoy and please review._

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**Chapter 18: The Night Before Christmas**

As Willy and Melanie were leaving about four hours later, their faces were flushed with happiness. Charlie and his family had given them both a wonderful celebration, and now, although they had enjoyed everyone's company, they were ready for some time alone.

The corridors were empty as Willy and Melanie walked back in the direction of her room. She was not sure what was going to happen once they reached the room, but she knew that the chocolatier had proven himself to be a gentleman in every sense of the word.

"It was a beautiful dinner, wasn't it?" She asked.

"Yes," he responded, his answer somewhat short. As his single word drifted to the heavens, Melanie could instinctively tell that Willy was lost in thought.

"Christmas is almost here," she said.

"Yes it is," he repeated as he draped a casual arm around her shoulder. No further words emerged, instead she could feel herself being drawn into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Willy, are you still worried about that?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Why would I be?" He asked.

Melanie rested her head against his shoulder, the soft velvet of his jacket brushing against her face. She released a contented sigh. "I don't know, I just thought that I might ask, just to make sure that everything is alright."

"It is," he smiled down at her, his eyes shining. "You have nothing to worry about."

"But I do," she whispered.

Willy stopped walking and turned to face her, his eyes looking down into hers. "It sometimes amazes me that someone like you who is so warm and caring would actually worry themselves about someone like me."

"Don't act so surprised, we all worry about you, Mrs. Richardson, Sarah, some of the kids, and me," she said. "You are such an important part of all our lives now."

"It surprises me," he said, "but it makes me very happy."

At that moment, the clock struck twelve and the sounds of small wind chimes could be heard. The Oompa Loompas were beginning their celebrations at midnight and bells ringing could be detected at every corner of Willy's immense chocolate factory.

As the sounds filled her ears, Melanie half expected him to speak. When he did not, she waited until the symphony of sounds had ended and she looked at Willy half expecting him to explain what had just transpired. What she did not expect was for all the lights in the corridor to go out and rainbow colors of lights to come on, thus leaving then in a labyrinth of color and light.

"The lights lead to the Chocolate Room," Willy said as he gently took her arm and felt hers winding through his, her head once more coming to rest on his shoulder. "It's now midnight, Melanie."

"Happy Christmas, Willy," she whispered.

The chocolatier said nothing, instead he smiled at her and led her through the winding corridor. The lights seemed to wind all about until they reached the tiny door that led into the Chocolate Room. Now seeing the familiar door, he deactivated the lock with the first four bars of 'Jingle Bells'.

"You changed the combination," she said, her hand covering her lips to suppress the giggles that had escaped from between them.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and began to chuckle at her cheerfulness. "Just for tonight, it will go back to Mozart's music the next time I have to use the lock."

Melanie watched as he opened the door. As they came inside, the first thing she noticed was the large Christmas tree that was placed in the middle of the room. The lights that adorned it were very much like what had been in the passageway they had just left.

"Oh Willy, it's beautiful," she whispered, her eyes taking in every last inch of the room. "You put a tree up here."

"No, my workers did, but it was because I had asked them to. Charlie agreed, but I think it is because he loves Christmas as much as you do," he said.

"I noticed, the mistletoe sort of gave that away," she said. "They seemed to have some hanging everywhere. It was almost as though Charlie knows about…"

"…He knows," Willy interrupted, but reached for one of her hands and they walked hand in hand through the Chocolate Room. As soon as they reached the tree, Willy turned and looked down at her. "Happy Christmas, Melanie," he said softly as he allowed his hands to stroke her face.

As she felt his gentle touch, Melanie allowed her eyes to close as her face inched its way closer and closer to his. When his lips captured her own, she smiled against the gentle pressure of his kiss.

Willy Wonka is kissing me, she thought with elation, and I am in love with him. What more could I have asked for this Christmas? She began to run her hands through his hair, her motion stopping when she felt the back of his head and she applied a little more pressure.

Feeling this, Willy allowed the kiss to intensify, his tongue invading her mouth and leaving her to taste the sweetness of chocolate, red wine, and peppermint.

As their kiss grew more passionate, Willy allowed his hands to run through her hair and down her back, the dress she wore feeling soft against his probing fingers. After several moments of exchanging sweet kisses, Willy abruptly picked her up in his arms and began to walk with her in his arms along the path.

The chocolatier's motivations were clear, but something suddenly happened to him and he lowered her to the ground. It suddenly became clear that his gentlemanly impulses were once more taking over and he blushed despite the irresistible sensations that had overtaken him.

Melanie looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise at what had happened. Gone was his overwhelming ardor and in its place was almost a shy and reserved man. She closed her eyes as she felt the distance that separated them. "Willy?"

"I'm sorry," he managed to speak, his sadness breaking through. "I will take you back to your room, now."

"Must you?" She asked.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with regret. "It wasn't my intention to do what I just did…"

"…It takes two to tango, and I was just as swept away as you," Melanie said as she looked at him. "I know that you are the most caring and loving man I have ever met. You are such an incredible person, and for what it's worth, I don't need a perfect gentleman. I don't care about rules or formalities anymore, I know what I really want for Christmas," she whispered as she reached over and touched the side of his face, her eyes flirtatiously meeting his, her unspoken motives completely obvious. She continued to stroke his cheek as her hand lowered and began to tug lightly on his bowtie.

"What is it you want, my dear?" He asked.

"I just want you to stay with me tonight," she whispered. "We don't have to do anything, I mean…" Her voice trailed off as she felt her face flush.

"You just want to have me with you?" He asked.

"Well, contrary to the way we are dressed, this isn't the nineteenth century," she said softly. "I would go to the ends of the world to be with you, Willy," she whispered before leaning towards him and pressing her lips softly to his. As she withdrew from it, two words emerged from between her lips. "Happy Christmas."

Willy returned the kiss and this time, he smiled as he picked her up in his arms and instead of carrying her back to the small guest room, he carried her to his suite.

* * *

As soon as they reached the room, he opened the door and carried her into the room, his eyes looking down at her. "It's not as fancy or decorated as Charlie's and his family's rooms, but it's home." He smiled at her. 

"There's no place like home for the holidays," she purred as she felt him lowering her to her feet so that she could take in the aspects of the room that she had missed before they had gone to dinner.

"Perhaps, but I tend to think there is no place like being among family and friends," he said softly as he approached where she was standing and looking down at the gifts that were rowed up along the wall. She began to take in the names that were carefully written on the cards, Ben, Jon, Simon, Tabitha, Sarah and several other children. As if by willpower alone, Willy had gone out of his way to learn each child's name. One package that stood out was about the size of one of his candy bars. It carried a tag that simply read the name 'Bobby'. Melanie smiled as her thoughts drifted and she realized that Willy Wonka must have had quite a revelation to find his Christmas spirit.

I had been a small part of that, she thought with a bashful smile.

Her gaze continued to drift along the packages until she stopped and looked at the candy maker. "Willy?" She whispered.

"Yes?" He murmured, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her into his embrace.

"Why aren't the presents under the tree in the Chocolate Room?" She asked innocently.

"I figured that it would be easier for me to keep them here. That way we can leave early tomorrow and make it in time for breakfast," he said smiling.

Melanie took a deep breath as she leaned into his embrace. "I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would find myself here on Christmas-eve, with you. I don't know how or why everything happened as it did, but I feel like I'm in the middle of my own Christmas miracle."

The chocolatier nodded. "You helped me find mine."

As a smile crossed her face, she looked up at him. "I'm glad," she buried her face against his chest and wound her arms around him. Before she could ask him what it was he had gotten for Bobby, Willy had pulled her firmly into his arms, his hands now against the back of her dress, his touch light, yet insistent as his lips sought hers.

The last thing Melanie remembered before her world intertwined with his, was a small package amidst all the gifts, which carried her name written in his, now familiar, flowing script.


	19. Chapter 19: Christmas Morning

_This is the next to last chapter. I may post the last one tonight so that I won't have to do this tomorrow morning while we're rushing about to go to our family for Christmas. I hope that you enjoy this latest installment. _

_Please let me know what you think. I'd love to come home after the holidays and find a bunch of lovely reviews waiting for me._

_At any rate, one more to go and then this story is wrapped up._

* * *

**Chapter 19: Christmas Morning**

When Melanie opened her eyes again, it was morning, the sunlight was seeping into the room through a large window. She turned her head and could see that next to her, Willy was soundly sleeping, his curly hair tousled and sprayed across the pillows. She shifted her body until she was resting on her elbow. She leaned over and began to brush his hair out from his face and smiled as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Good morning," she whispered as his blue eyes met hers. "Happy Christmas, Willy."

"Happy Christmas, my dearest lady," he said smiling as he sat up. "It's eight, so perhaps we should get up and get ready. We have so much time and so little to do…Strike that, reverse it…"

Melanie giggled as she crawled out of bed. She was still wearing her red Victorian style dress from the night before and it was clear that she had spent the whole night wrapped securely in his arms. Nothing had happened, and she was glad for it. If something does happen, she thought; I want to remember every last detail about it. She could not presently recall having laid down on the bed the previous night.

I must have had a little bit too much wine last night and now I can't remember, she thought. Besides that, she rationalized with herself, when something does happen, I don't want to be punch drunk.

Instead of contemplate this further, she went over to him. He was digging through his cabinets and had pulled out a dark green colored jacket. "Willy, I have to go back to my room, but don't know the way."

"Why?" He asked.

"I need a dress for today, and all my clothes are in my room," she said.

"Is that all?" Willy asked smiling at her. "You look lovely."

"Lovely? Willy, I can't show up looking like this, that's how rumors get started," she smiled sheepishly.

The chocolatier chuckled but put his arm around her and started to steer her towards the door leading into his luxurious bathroom. "You just leave everything to me. I can still spin a little magic of my own."

Melanie nodded and once she entered the bathroom, the door was gently closed behind her, and without another thought, she headed straight for the shower.

* * *

When Melanie stepped out of the shower some ten minutes later, she wrapped herself in a towel, but noticed that a dress was now hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Willy must have slipped in while she was showering and hung it there, she thought as she ran her hand over the fabric. The softness of velvet met her expectant fingers and she could feel the tears catching in her eyes.

Like the jacket she had seen him pulling from the cabinet earlier, this dress was green in color, the very same as finest Christmas trees in the city. Along the top a reddish colored trim could be seen with what looked to be a fabric that resembled the color of holly berries. The contrast of red and green left her with an monumental feeling of Christmas.

Instead of contemplating it further, she began to towel dry her hair, and when it was lying flat, she turned her attention to the dress. Everything that she required was placed within reach. After several minutes she was dressed and cast a glance towards the mirror so that she could behold her reflection. Seeing her standing there, she broke into a bright smile and began to spin around the small room, the folds of her skirt now wafting out from her.

After about a minute, she stopped as a tear caught in her eye as she remembered the days when she was a little girl and dreamt of dressing in something that made her feel like a princess. Now she was dressed in such an outfit, and this made her feel as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world. One of her Christmas dreams had just come true and the day had not even started to unfold.

She was brought back to the present when she heard insistent tapping on the door. "Melanie, are you finished?" Willy's pleasing sounding voice suddenly filled her ears she went over to the door and opened it.

"Sorry I took so long," she said, her eyes meeting his. She ran her hands down over the texture of the dress. "I didn't anticipate this, Willy."

"You look radiant," he said smiling.

She looked deeply in his eyes, her heart feeling as though it was about to explode. Here was Willy Wonka, someone she had admired from afar, and he was telling her in so many ways that she was beautiful.

"There's a bag on the bed, maybe while I'm getting ready, you can put everything in it that we'll need today," he said.

Melanie nodded. "Leave everything to me."

Willy disappeared inside the bathroom and she walked over to the packages that were lining the wall. "He's already done so much for all of us," she whispered under her breath. "There's nothing Scrooge-like about this man, quite the contrary."

She began to pick up and sort through the gifts. As she read through the names, she stopped and looked down at the gift that Willy had selected for Bobby. It was wrapped in shimmering silver paper with blue colored decorations adorning it. Willy had wrapped everything that he intended to give, his unique style seeming to embody each one of the gifts.

Melanie had seen Bobby's gift the night before, but now that she was holding it in her hand, she could not imagine what it was the chocolatier had done for the boy. Until the day that Raymond Richardson had returned home, Bobby had been cruel and unkind. Now, she wondered why it was Willy intended on giving a child a gift when he had lost the spirit of the season and was taking his anger out on others.

Dismissing the negative feelings she carried, Melanie placed the small package in the bag and began to pack the others as well. The strange thing was the gift she had seen for herself was now gone. She could not help but wonder if she had simply imagined having seen it the night before. Most of the gifts were small and thus easy to pack away, so perhaps she had overlooked it.

Willy emerged from the bathroom as she was putting the last of the gifts in the bag. "You got everything packed?" He asked.

"I think so," she said as he came over to her and put a gentle arm around her. "Willy, I noticed that you got something for Bobby. If he's been nothing but cruel to you, then why would you think about him?"

"I suppose for the same reason that you devoted so much of your time to trying to get to know me," he said softly.

"But you're not like Bobby," she said. "You're not unkind or heartless."

"Neither is he, my dear," Willy said softly. "The truth is, I was not looking forward to Christmas, and I was afraid of spending the holiday alone. Bobby seems to have the same feelings going through his mind as I did. I know that it may seem hard for you to understand him, but I can almost see the pain that he carries each time he lashes out. He wants someone to be there and not abandon him, and I guess he does the same thing to me that I did to the world when I withdrew. This is a lonely existence, Melanie, and one that a boy should not have to endure."

Melanie allowed his words to sink in and she raised her head to look at him. "Sometimes I think you're just too good for this world."

"No," he said as he pulled her into his arms. "I'm just seeing myself in a lot of the people I meet. It's as though they are the part of the reflection of what I am. Do you know what I see whenever I look at you?"

She looked away, her stance indicative that she was worried about what he was going to say. What she didn't expect was for him to reach out, take her chin in his hands and turn her face back to him.

"I see someone who has yet to see the beauty that they are, and I realize that you have a wisdom that is so special, beautiful, and unique, but have forgotten about it. You need someone who will come into your life and remind you of that. It is something that I would like to one day emanate."

Melanie smiled at him, her hands reaching out to him, her fingers lightly touching the velvety texture of his jacket. She stood holding his upper arms in her hands and looking up at him. No words were spoken, she simply stared into the depths of his eyes and smiled. Somewhere, she could feel the tears catching beneath her eyes, but none of that mattered anymore. The dreams she had about Willy Wonka had somehow become a reality. What was it about this man who could make a woman feel as though she was on top of the world with only a few simple words or phrases?

"Are you ready?" He asked as he backed away from her and their contact was broken. He then reached for his matching coat and pulled it on.

As she was putting on the coat he handed to her, she could feel a rush of happiness enfolding her. "I am if you are," she said nodding. She watched as he reached for the bag and swung it effortlessly over his shoulder. "You know, you're not Scrooge, Willy, you look more like Father Christmas."

"How fitting," he smiled coyly as he offered her his free arm and she accepted.

Together, they left the confines of the factory.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Willy and Melanie arrived at the Kinsley Street Children's Home. Fresh snow was silently falling and Melanie looked at him. "It's a white Christmas," she said as they could hear their feet crunching as they walked through the soft white powder. Glancing skyward, they could see that the sky was somewhat gray in color, the colors somehow meshing together with the houses that lined the street. Reaching the house, Melanie smiled when she noticed that a snowman had been built and now stood in the front yard.

"The children must have built that during yesterday's snowfall," Willy said as Melanie opened the gate and once he had walked through, she closed it again. They walked silently up the walk until they reached the front door.

From inside, they could hear the sounds of the children's laughter and Willy turned and looked at Melanie just before they rang the bell. "Thank you for being here with me," he offered, a smile crossing his face. "I wasn't sure what would have happened if I were to have come here alone."

"You'd have survived," she said smiling up at him. "Somehow, I have this feeling that everything that you want to accomplish somehow works its way out with a little bit of magic." She rested her head against his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I do understand what it feels like to be nervous."

Nodding, Willy rang the bell and they waited for it to open. When it did, they found themselves looking into Maggie's joy-filled eyes. She extended her hands to both of them, and watched as Willy untangled his hand from his hold on Melanie's so that he could grasp her offered one.

"Happy Christmas, Willy," she said looking up at him. Seconds later she looked at Melanie. "Happy Christmas, Melanie. My you look lovely. Now, both of you come inside. We were just about to sit down for breakfast. Won't you join us?"

Willy and Melanie nodded and they went into the house.


	20. Chapter 20: A Christmas Surprise

_This is it, Merry Christmas everyone. I'll be back in about a week. Take care and hope all is well for you._

_Please let me know what you think of my Christmas contribution. Enjoy and hope all your Christmas wishes come true._

_Best wishes,_

_Yva J._

* * *

**Chapter 20: A Christmas Surprise**

An hour after arriving, Willy found himself sitting in the parlor with about a dozen children, Maggie, Raymond, and Melanie. Everyone was sitting and the children were excitedly unwrapping their last remaining gifts. Willy had passed a number of his gifts around, but about five of his gifts remained in his possession and he was waiting for the opportunity to spread a little bit more Christmas cheer.

When the moment finally arrived for him to give out the remaining gifts in his possession, he swallowed as he looked at Maggie. "On the first day we went shopping together, I discovered something monumentally profound."

"What was that?" She asked.

"That the only way I could be happy is to make other people happy," he said. "Maybe that's why I started making candy in the first place. It was my way of spreading joy."

"You brought us joy just by being here," Maggie affirmed.

Raymond nodded as he clapped Willy's shoulder good-naturedly. "She's right."

As these words filled the air, both Willy and Melanie watched as Bobby quietly left the room.

Maggie started to get up and go after him, but what neither of them expected was for Willy to get up. "Would it be alright if I go and talk to him?"

Raymond exchanged nervous glances with Maggie, but the woman eventually spoke. "Alright, but Willy do stay away from the flower boxes."

The chocolatier smiled, but walked out of the room. It didn't take him long to find Bobby, the boy was standing in the, now empty dining room staring at the cabinet with his mother's ornaments. Tears were washing down over his face as he stared at it.

"Happy Christmas, Bobby," Willy said from the doorway.

The boy turned around and looked at him. "What do you want?" He asked, his voice not confrontational, instead it was laced with confusion and sadness. The boy could not fathom why it was the man he had shoved into the garden box would want anything to do with him. Yet, there he stood in the doorway, his eyes filled with his own brand of kindness.

"I'd like to talk to you, if I may," Willy said. "And, I have something for you, but it is something that I wanted to give to you when we were alone."

"Y-you have something me?" The boy asked weakly.

"You think that I would bring everyone else a gift, but not you?" Willy asked.

"I-I don't know," he said weakly. "Before my father came home, I wasn't very nice to you. I sort of figured that I didn't deserve it."

"You do deserve it. I can sort of understand why it is you were not happy," Willy said as he walked further into the room. He went over to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. "Would you come and talk to me before we have to go back and join the others?"

"Why would you want to talk to me?" Bobby asked.

"Because whether you believe it or not, I'd like to be your friend," he said. "You see my boy…uh, I mean Bobby, contrary to the rocky start we've had, I do understand how you feel."

"How could you?" He asked plainly.

"You believe that I am just some lucky person who became famous overnight, don't you?" Willy asked.

"That's what everyone says," the boy mumbled.

Willy chuckled. "I wish that were the case, but my life hasn't been easy. I've had about as many ups and downs as you, but it's how I dealt with my sadness that is different. If you want to know the truth, I could understand why you lashed out the way you did. Sometimes I wish I could have done so as well."

"You do?"

The chocolatier nodded. "Bobby, it may surprise you to discover this, but I'm just as human as you are. To think that just because I love what I do for a living or am famous means that I don't feel grief, sadness, heartache, or loneliness is absurd, because I do." He reached over and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You've made a great many sacrifices for your parents, and for the children, haven't you?"

The boy raised his head, but didn't say anything. His eyes were wide and it looked as though he was regarding the chocolatier as though he had just spoken of the boy's most internalized pain.

After several moments of silence, he spoke. "I hated that no one noticed. My parents didn't see that it was hard for me. Mum expected me to go and pick up the little kids after school when I could have been meeting my friends and playing basketball. The only time they ever seemed to pay attention to me was when I was doing bad stuff."

"Did you ever try and talk to them about this?" Willy asked softly.

"I didn't know what to say," he whispered. "I went to Mum just last week and said that I wanted to meet two of the guys after school to shoot some hoops and she abruptly said no. She wanted me to come back after picking up the kids and help Melanie clean out the cellar. I suddenly realized that everything I wanted to do, I couldn't, because of all the stuff that was expected of me. I knew the moment my dad left, that I would never be able to spend time with my friends or do the things I wanted to do because of something that I had to do for the kids."

"So the person who left was your father," Willy said. "And when I came along, you figured that I would do exactly the same thing he did; stay awhile and then leave again."

The boy nodded. "But you didn't," he said, his voice cracking.

"No, I didn't, and I wouldn't," Willy smiled. "I took everything you dished out and still did not run away. But I do have a question for you."

"What?"

"Is it remotely possible that you were wrong about me, just as you were wrong about your father?" He asked. When Bobby didn't answer, he continued. "We both came back, Bobby, and neither of us are going to abandon you. You must realize that I am not here to take your father's place; there is no one who really can. I am also not here to try and buy off your loyalties. I do have money, yes, and I will use what I have to help your parents fix this place up, but I know that money is not something you can use to buy off your friends. A true friend is not measured by how much one has materially, but they are generally measured by their loving support during the difficult times."

Bobby lowered his head. "You're a lot smarter than I thought, Mr. Wonka."

"Thank you, but Bobby, you can call me Willy, I don't generally like my friends to be so formal," he smiled. "Now, I know that this isn't much, but maybe it could be the mark of our new start." He extended the small package to the boy.

Bobby slowly reached out and accepted the package. "T-thank you, but I don't have anything for you."

"You gave me something just now, your friendship, and trust," Willy smiled. "Go ahead and open it."

Bobby opened the package and discovered that inside of it was a candy bar. He raised his head and looked at the chocolatier. "A candy bar?"

"Not just any candy bar," Willy said, his expression shifting and he could feel an almost expectant sensation enfolding him.

Carefully, Bobby started to open the candy bar. As he pulled the wrapper away he stared down at the silver paper that covered the chocolate. He was not sure why he was opening this one as carefully as he had never done that before. In fact, the boy was accustomed to ripping his way into them like someone who had not eaten in months. Yet, here he sat carefully peeling the silver paper away until he saw a piece of golden paper wrapped around the chocolate.

He raised his head, a question looming, but Willy said nothing, instead he smiled encouragingly at the boy and watched as he removed the golden piece of paper from the candy bar.

Seconds slowly ticked by and began to read the words that covered the shimmering golden page.

_Greetings and Happy Christmas to you, Robert Richardson, the lucky finder of this special Golden Ticket. From Willy Wonka_

_You are cordially invited to come to the factory for a tour. Once the Christmas holidays are over and we have some time, then I will show you everything that you wish to see._

_In your wildest dreams you could not imagine the marvelous surprises that await you._

The boy raised his head and looked at Willy. "I can? I-I mean; is t-this real?"

The chocolatier nodded. "Yes, Bobby, it's real, and the last words printed here are the very same words that were on the original Golden Tickets. I wanted to share something with you that was not ordinary and the idea came to me several days ago." He took a deep breath. "Do you like it?"

Bobby could feel the tears catching in his eyes and he bit down on his lower lip before placing the candy bar and the ticket on the table. He then found himself practically collapsing into Willy's arms, the tears falling freely from the boy's eyes.

Willy smiled, as he embraced the young boy. Raising his head several seconds later, his gaze met that of Maggie and Raymond who now stood in the doorway watching.

When their embrace loosened, the chocolatier smiled. "Your parents are here, Bobby, now you can sit down and tell them what you told me."

"I can't," the boy said.

"Yes you can," he said. "You have to. They need to know the truth and it should come from you, not me, and not Melanie. Not even Sarah can tell them what you need them to know."

Bobby nodded, but looked at Willy. "W-would you stay?"

"Stay? But, I'm not family…" he began.

"Yes you are," Bobby said firmly, but looked at his parents. "Mum, Dad, can we talk?"

Maggie nodded, but exchanged looks with her husband before looking at her son. "Of course, Bobby." She sat down at the table and the first thing she noticed were the red blotches under the boy's eyes, indicating that he had cried.

* * *

For the next half hour, Bobby sat and spoke to his parents about all the pain that he had been through. Willy sat and listened, but said not a word. Bobby had affirmed that he was a part of the family, and that had been the greatest gift that he could have asked for. 

As they finished speaking, Raymond clapped his son on the shoulder proudly and smiled. "It was brave of you to tell us the truth, Bob."

"Bob?" The boy spoke.

"You're a bit too old to be called 'Bobby' anymore. Bobby is the name of a child, you're starting to grow into a man," Raymond explained. "That is unless you want to keep going by 'Bobby'."

"No, I like being called Bob," the boy said smiling sheepishly, but turned to his mother. "Did you open Willy's gift, Mum?"

"Not yet," she said but pulled out the gift. "Should I open it now?"

The chocolatier nodded and smiled at her and watched as she opened the package. When she found the small plastic ornament inside, she broke into a wide smile. "That was just what I wanted," she said happily. "Thank you, Willy."

He smiled. "There is more, but it's not just from me, it's also from Raymond."

Maggie looked at her husband. "What did you two cook up?"

Raymond began to chuckle and nudged Willy. "It would seem that she is guessing our motives, but perhaps you should go into the kitchen, honey."

Maggie started to stand up. "I can truthfully say that I have no idea what all this is about."

"Let's just go into the kitchen, Mum," Bob said.

Maggie nodded and they all got up from the table and she started to walk towards the door leading into the kitchen, but suddenly she stopped. Instead of immediately going in, she turned and approached the cabinet where the ornaments were hanging. Opening it, she found a vacant nail, she hung the Scrumdidlyumptious ornament next to the one Melanie had give her. Closing the cabinet, she slowly towards the door leading into the kitchen.

As they came in, she immediately spotted a large plate of fudge on the counter and a card that was somehow balanced against the mountain of fudge. "Willy, did you make this?"

"No, Melanie did, but I helped her a little," he said as she approached and removed the card. Carefully she opened the card and started to read. "A new kitchen?" She whispered once she had finished reading the card. "Oh you guys are just wonderful." She could suddenly feel the tears as they were streaming down her face.

Raymond looked at her. "That was why I went to work for the trucking company, I was trying to earn some extra money for your Christmas present. Now that Willy's helping, I won't have to leave after New Year's."

"You mean you're home to stay, Dad?" Bob asked.

"I'm home for good," he said. "We'll have to share the man of the house duties, Bob. I hope you don't mind."

The smile that Bob gave his father was answer enough. The boy grabbed the plate of fudge and left the kitchen with the adults following close behind.

* * *

Willy was smiling when they returned to the parlor. Melanie had been sitting with the children when they all came back into the room. Sarah had crawled over beside her and was holding the new doll in her arms that Willy had given to her. As they returned, she moved over so that he could sit down next to Melanie. 

Melanie still held an unopened gift in her hands. She had found it amidst the gifts that Willy had brought, but had yet to open it. It was clear that she had enjoyed the act of watching everyone else that she had forgotten about herself. Even Willy had not been forgotten as he had received about a dozen drawings from each of the children. Sarah's picture of the Chocolate Room was right on top of the stack. Each picture had been signed by the young artist who drew it.

As he made himself comfortable next to Melanie, he looked at her. "You haven't even opened your present yet," he whispered. "I'm getting nervous that you may not even like it."

"That's silly, anything that comes from you is going to be appreciated," she leaned over and purred into his ear.

"You'll have to repeat that," he said slyly, "I'm deaf in that ear."

Melanie smiled but instead of repeating it, she kissed his cheek before backing away from him and opening the package. As she did, she found a gold necklace with a small white colored poinsettia hanging from it. She smiled at the piece of jewelry and immediately pulled it from the small box and handed it to him. "You put it on."

"I don't know how," he said.

"It's easy, just press the clasp and put the little circle into it. She waited several minutes as he affixed the object around her neck. As he managed and backed up, she looked at him. "How does it look?"

"Lovely," he smiled as Sarah stood up, a small piece of mistletoe in her hand. She hung it over their heads and smiled impishly at them.

Melanie glanced up and when she noticed this, she blushed, but looked at Willy. "I suppose we best stay with tradition," she said bashfully.

He nodded and once he took her in his arms, he gave her the most loving kiss he was capable of offering. "Eewww," a number of boys chimed in as the girls began to swoon and say things like 'how romantic'.

Once the kiss had ended, they had acquired the attention of just about all of the children in the room. "Tell us a story, Willy," one girl requested.

"Yeah," several of the children chimed in. "One with a happy ending."

"Do you even know any stories?" One boy asked.

"Do I know any stories?" Willy feigned astonishment at the question and Melanie giggled and she watched him gather his thoughts.

"Tell us a Christmas story, Uncle Willy," Bob called out. "Let's see if you're not just the greatest candy maker in the world."

"You want a story, I'll give you a story," Willy said smiling as he heard Bob call him 'Uncle'. This had been a wonderful gift, and it touched him deeply. "There was once a man who lived all alone in a large building on the edge of town. He had no idea about what Christmas was and his heart was cold and distant. He had more than he could have ever asked for, but he was still not happy…"

As he told the story, complete with insertions made by the children, Maggie looked at her husband and smiled. "His fondest Christmas wish was to have a family."

Raymond nodded. "Well, from the looks of things, that wish came true."

The End.


End file.
